


A Crow From Afar

by WhitherWinds



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter Has a Twin, Siblings, Violence, War, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:19:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 72,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22360189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhitherWinds/pseuds/WhitherWinds
Summary: Harry Potter has always thought that he was the only one left of his family. That was until Sirius' words in the Shrieking Shack revealed a twin sister. Meanwhile, in a Wizarding Russia drenched in bloody conflict, a letter has called back a Crow to the nest from whence it hatched. Their roads cross and they soon find themselves running parallel in a looming crisis.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	1. Crow

Chapter 1 - Crow

Her footsteps were brisk and silent as she made her way down the street, neither too fast nor slow, no clues of her intentions can be afforded to be given away by actions. It was evening, the rush hour was on full swing. Roads were swamped with cars and the Muggles didn't seem to pay much heed to the speed limits. Despite the crowd, it wasn't that difficult for her to notice the two hooded figures tailing her.

The wands firmly grasped in their hands weren't that hard to spot as well, not that the same can be said for all the Muggles flocking about.

Her eyes darted to and fro before closing her left eye, as though focusing on the right eye gave all the clarity she needed. Her hand reached up and trailed the scar running down her right eye, from the centre of the eyebrow straight down by two inches. She moved away from the scar and pushed back a stray lock of raven hair behind her ear, whilst tilting her head ever slightly to give her vision of the two figure.

They were wearing masks as well. She inwardly snorted. As though the wands weren't blatant enough. The pair may as well be holding up placards saying 'We are a pair of wizards and we are tailing you'.

The foreign sounding conversations from a passing couple brought the girl out from her reverie. The pair cannot stay on her tail for long, she was going to have to lose them. She didn't have much of an advantage though, she only had her wand with her at the moment, no potions, no devices, no equipment, nothing to tilt the scales of balance in her favour.

How was a yet-to-be-fourteen girl supposed to lose a pair of adult wizards tailing her without openly compromising the Statue of Secrecy? Dragging in the local Magical Law Enforcement is a last resort.

_Think, think, think._

A loud beep of a nearby sedan, following by the guffaw of a pair of passing Muggles, "şübhəsiz zarafat edirsiniz."

_What were the Azerbaijani Laws for Magical Transportation again? Floo is out of the question. Can't apparate myself. Portkeys... portkeys in Azerbaijan... that's right, unrestricted and untracked._

She stole another glance at the hooded pair.

_Can't really just portkey out, if they are on my tail, that means they tracked and traced my previous three portkey destination signatures. On top of that, three portkey hops already put my head in shambles, can't afford another one._

_Or can I..._

She opened her left eye again, as though the right eye had shown her what she need to see. Taking a turn to a two-storey building, she dug her left hand into her jumper and drew her wand, surreptitiously cast an unlocking charm on the door and tried the knob. As she crossed the threshold, she could already guess that the pair of hunters were quickening their steps, she had a scant half-minute to get ready. Pointing the wand at the outside doorknob, she muttered a quick, " _Diffindo_ " and caught the severed doorknob, tossing it to the side. A sidelong glance revealed a bowl of fruits, probably for decoration or visitors. Well, the apple would do. She grabbed and started twisting her wand in small circular motions, eyes squinted in concentration. The apple slowly morphed to become more golden and spherical, before finally settling on the appearance of the severed doorknob. A sticking charm to the door soon followed. Finally, she tapped the apple-turned-doorknob and said, " _Portus_ ".

Nodding at the temporary blue glow in approval, she closed the door with the inside doorknob before heading up the stairs. Reaching the second storey, she headed for the room that gave her a view over the door. Upon entering, she caught the attention of a middle-aged man who was stooped over a desk full of paperwork.

"Sən kimsən? Bu xüsusi mülkdür!"

" _Confundo_ " rolled off her lips easily before shoving the man in a corner of the room. One second's worth of memory seeing her wouldn't warrant a memory charm, the man would forget about it.

A glance down the window showed that, just in time, the pair were on the doorstep. The taller of the two pointed his wand at the house and the girl felt a familiar swooping sensation pass through the house. A _'Homenum revelio_ ' well done, at least the pair had some sense of professionalism. The girl could feel her heart beating faster as the adrenaline begun to enter the bloodstream. The taller one nodded in satisfaction and reached to open the door. Her emerald green eyes shone from the blue glow from the doorknob, or more likely from satisfaction. The taller one was tugged out of sight as though by an invisible hook, the 'doorknob' vanishing along with him. The shorter one froze on the spot, wand arm hanging aloof.

_Element of surprise always works I guess._

Suddenly, an ear-piercing screech of rubber on asphalt rang through the air, followed by a sicking 'crash'. The shorter one immediately whirled towards the sound, back facing the girl completely. She graciously welcomed the opportunity with a stunner to the back, no one would notice the jet of red flying across the air anyway, not with the ongoing commotion on the street. The girl when back downstairs to the doorstep, stowing away the stunned wizard's wand and placing said wizard in a full-body bind. She took a moment to look down the street to the previously busy intersection and regard her handiwork. Speeding Muggles did come in useful in this case. The taller wizard lay on the middle of the intersection, bent and broken with a gruesome white bone protruding out from his side, a pool of blood already forming, lying a few feet away from a car sporting a bend bonnet. A small crowd had formed, with one man - probably the unfortunate third party - yapping away in clear confusion and panic. In the dead wizard's hand was a doorknob, by the time people may have taken notice of that, the transfiguration would have worn off to its less suspicious original form, the local Magical Law Enforcement team probably wouldn't be checking an apple for traces of magic, if they ever came to investigate.

Turing back to the stunned leftover, she levitated the body and had it following her obediently. She made her way to the back door with body in tow, moving to the back alley. There, an old Toyota pickup was already waiting, the teenage driver laid back in his seat with an almost finished fag in his hand. With that ruffled brown hair, torn leather jacket and ripped jeans, he was begging to be looked upon as a punk and rebel. A grin graced his face as he caught sight of the girl, "Finally here Anya? You took your time. And who that charming companion of yours?"

"This _charming companion_ is the reason I _took my time_ to begin with," the girl, Anya, replied with a scowl. "He and his partner managed to tail me across three portkey jumps, they aren't completely incompetent and they had to know about this."

"Which is why you brought him for questioning," the boy nodded sagely. "More importantly, you got the dossier?"

"Wouldn't be here if I didn't, two thousand galleons worth of blackmail in the bag. Now shut up and let me in, make sure the notice-me-not charms are good, because any Muggle law enforcement officer will ask for your driving license with one look at you."

**XXXXX**

**_Thirteen years ago..._ **

Albus Dumbledore paced down the cobbled walkway, checking his pocket watch once again. Hagrid should be coming anytime soon. Stopping at a bridge, he gazed at the river beneath, letting his thoughts stray. Too many lives lost, too much innocent blood shed in this war, Harry Potter truly was a miracle in ending this war. No, he didn't end this war, he merely established a ceasefire. The war has yet to end, Voldemort is not gone and Harry will be instrumental in finally ending the war years down the road. Harry would have to go to his last living relatives, the Death Eaters still walk amongst the crowd and many seek the blood of the Boy-Who-Lived, the blood wards set in place by Lily's sacrifice will be the best protection for him. However, there was still another issue to resolve.

The roar of a motorbike shook Dumbledore out of his thoughts, he look up at the sky and observed the motorbike's journey through the air and the half-giant steering it. The motorcycle landed on the bridge with a screeching halt in front of Dumbledore, the half-giant climbed out of the motorcycle and made his way over.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, letting out a breath of relief. "At last. And where did you get that motorbike?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," the giant replied, shifting the bundle of blankets gently from one arm to another. "Young Sirius Black lent it me, I've got them, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir - house was almost destroyed but I got them both out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. They fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol. Blimey Professor, I didn't even know James an' Lily had a daughter."

Dumbledore bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a pair of babies, a boy and a girl, both fast asleep.

"Yes, this would be Anne Potter, Harry's little twin sister. James and Lily kept her a secret," said Dumbledore, inspecting the twins. "And this wound...?"

"Aye, sir. Sirius Black patched up her eye before giving 'er to me, seemed like You-Know-Who did it before turning on Harry. Will she be alright, sir?"

The lightning bolt shaped cut on the boy's forehead was likely the handiwork of Voldemort. The girl too had a cut, this one running down her right eye, that eye will never see the light of day again.

_She no longer has her right eye, now she a liability. Harry can't be allowed to be with her._

"I don't know myself, Hagrid. Voldemort seemed to have cursed it," replied Dumbledore, continuing as he took the twins off Hagrid's arm. "I will try my best where Sirius left off, but I can make no promises."

"Could I - could I say goodbye to both of them, sir?" asked Hagrid.

"Very well, Hagrid. A short one please. Minerva is waiting at the Dursleys' for me, best that I don't tarry."

Hagrid bent over and gave the twins each a kiss on the before taking out his large spotted handkerchief, sobbing loudly onto it.

"C-c-can't believe it, Lily dead, James dead, an' their children off ter live with Muggles...tha' with little Anne still injured," sobbed Hagrid, moving back to the motorbike. "I'd best get this bike away, sir. G'night, Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself on to the motorbike and kicked the engine to life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

Dumbledore was left to his own thoughts, he shook his head gently and calmly regarded the twins that lay on his arms. Harry would go to the Dursleys', that was the best for him. Anne was the issue, she no longer had her asset against Voldemort, Tom saw to that himself.

_The girl lies in the dark, hands stained crimson. Her right eye a gift to endanger the Dark Lord..._

She could not be left with Harry too, she would only lead him astray in the future. If she still had her right eye, it could have been worth it to let the two grow up together. To have each other to rely on. But now, she was no longer gifted to fight against Voldemort, only Harry was. All she would do now is lead Harry to the dark in the future were she to stay with Harry, and the boy cannot afford to turn to the dark, not when he has to face Voldemort.

_And should the twins be together, the heart of light will embrace the dark while the child of dark remains in the shadows..._

Dumbledore stared at the girl, his sharp blue eyes peering into her peaceful demeanour, searching for an answer. He could leave her to another family, but magical or Muggle, she will still come back on the eleventh of September when the Hogwarts letter reaches her. There she will still come into contact with Harry, he could try to keep them apart, but there would be no guarantees.

Unless...

Dumbledore placed Anne down onto a nearby bench, drawing out his wand. He levelled it against her, an incantation almost that the tip of his tongue. Drawing a deep breath, his shoulders seem to sag under the responsibility of the act he was about to commit. At the last moment, he jerked his wand arm back, head sagging down, he let out a breath he did not know he was holding. No, he would not stoop to Voldemort's level.

But this was for the war effort against Voldemort in the future, he could not allow for any mistakes. He steeled himself once more and gazed upon at the girl with an electrifying fire in his eyes. Yes, this had to be done, Harry cannot be afforded to be held back against Voldemort, this had to be done. It is for the greater good.

_Greater good, Albus?_

A voice, gruff and familiar, rang through his head.

_You always drone on and on about the greater good don't you? You and Grindelwald._

_And because of this greater good, we lost Ariana. I lost Ariana._

_Which poor little girl is going to die because of your greater good this time, Albus?_

The steely look on his face snapped and that electrifying fire in his eyes disappeared, doused by a cold swooping sensation in his chest. His shoulders sagged once more, this time shaking. Raising a sleeve to his face, he wiped the two trails of tears gently rolling down his cheeks.

"Ariana, I'm so sorry. Merlin, I didn't mean to..."

He stepped forward and leaned over to the small bundle that was Anne Potter. "Anne, I'm so sorry... so sorry..." he croaked.” Please forgive me..."

He waved his wand over the girl's face and the bleeding from the right eye stopped entirely. Stepping back with Harry in his arms, he turned around and left the bundle on the wooden bench. With one last glace at the girl, with trembling lips and teary eyes, Albus Dumbledore bid Anne Potter his final farewell. "I'm sorry Anne, this is for your brother. I hope you can forgive me."

Looking away from the bench and straight ahead, Dumbledore kept his head locked forward, as though another look at the girl would break his resolve. With a spin, he apparated into the night, leaving the girl behind.

**XXXXX**

An old Toyota pickup stopped in front of a dumpy apartment flat, Anya stepped out and looked. The building was old and dingy, its purple coat of paint peeling off and faded into a dull grey. Despite the sky darkening under the setting sun, only a few windows had signs of light and life creeping out.

"Ominous, no?" she said to herself sardonically, before turning back to the pickup. "Oi, Dimitri. Get the man out and let go, it's getting cold."

No response. " _Dvigat'sya uzhe_ ," she sighed, chucking a nearby pebble at the pickup.

" _Khorosho ya idu_ ," replied the teenager, Dimitri, scowling at the offending pebble. He held his wand like a baton, levitating an unconscious and bound man in tow. " _Ne nuzhno brosat' kamni, mne tozhe ne nravitsya etot kholod._ "

The pair walked up to the apartment flat, climbing up the flight of stairs and stopping at the third floor. A walk down the hallway ended with a drab concrete wall in sight. Dimitri dug his hand into his jeans pocket and produced a key, shoving it into the wall, the key seemed to sink into the wall with ease. A twist and an audible click of a doorlock opening was heard, pushing the wall revealed a doorway to an apartment room, furnished with basic wooden tables and chairs. A mouldy sofa sat in a corner and the wallpaper seemed not to different from the building's paintwork.

They were promptly greeted by a wiry Asian, dressed in a jumper and slacks similar to Anya, looking just as young as the pair. His dark eyes narrowed in suspicion, flickering back and forth between the pair and settling on the floating unconscious form behind the pair. Finally, he turned to Dimitri and asked in anticipation, "你就是谁呢？"

"Wei Jen, I don't speak Mandarin and we both know that," replied Dimitri evenly. "We've got the dossier and a prisoner for interrogation."

"Well said, Dim, come in" the Asian replied with a slight accent, smiling warmly whilst moving aside to get them room to enter. His smile then slipped into a mocking grin. "Four years of the old man nagging and you still can't get the hang of Mandarin."

“Jen. Good to see you.”

“Same here, Anya.”

"Not my fault languages aren't my forte," Dimitri shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the mocking nickname. "I suck in Mandarin and you suck in Russian, the feeling is mutual. You don't hear me mocking you when the old man scolds you for not learning Russian properly."

"And then we have Anya," stated the Asian – Jen – brightly, facing the girl and shaking hands. "The old man's best linguistic student; English, Russian, Mandarin and Tamil, all under your belt."

"Spare me the flattery or I'll hex you," replied Anya fondly, a small grin betraying her face of mock sternness. "It's all required for the job."

Jen closed the door behind them and moved over to inspect the unconscious body, drawing out his wand and prodding it in various places. With a sweeping wave of the wand, the unconscious man's clothes were jerked off roughly, revealing a tattooed panther across the man's chest.

"Ang San Cartel," Jen mumbled, running his hand down from his sharp jawline to his chin. He then turned around, beginning to search through the clothes for any clues. "Well, I'm honestly surprised they're intervening in this blackmail operation, I thought their operating branches only spanned the Southeast, furthest being the Bangladeshi branch."

"Maybe it has to do with us assassinating said Bangladeshi branch leader," offered Dimitri. "Old man didn't seem fond them to begin with, eye for an eye for an eye?"

"Heh, maybe," chuckled Jen, he suddenly tilted his and screwed his face up in concentration before snapping his fingers in realisation. "就提醒了我! Anya, the old man asked me to pass you a message."

He strode over to a dining table pickup an envelope and passing it to a perplexed Anya, who tore the envelope open.

"A plane ticket back to Russia for tomorrow, what does old man Nathaniel want we me now? We just got the blackmail dossier done."

"Dim and I will handle the dossier and the interrogation. He said that all will be explained back at Arkhangelsk, mentioned something about Gringotts and Hogwarts."


	2. Gringotts Letter

Chapter 2 – Gringotts Letter

The sharp bump of the airplane's landing jerked Anya from her light slumber, informing her that she arrived at Arkhangelsk, she ran her fingers through her low ponytail and let out a groan. As comfortable as airplane flights could be, Anya preferred saving seven hours by simply taking an international portkey. Then again, with a cartel possibly tailing her, it was much easier albeit tedious to leave a country via the Muggle way. Everyone is usually too fixated on Floo routes, portkey signatures and apparition traces to even glance at an airport or train station.

A steady stream of people left the airplane and began to trickle down to the customs checkpoint. Talagi Airport was a drab first reminder of the Soviet-era Anya spent her childhood growing up in, its blocky design and dull grey and white colour scheme all too familiar.

" _Natalya Polivanova?_ " the customs officer inquired, lazily looking down at the passport

" _Da_."

" _Dobro pozhalovat' domoy,_ " grunted the customs officer, stamping and unceremoniously shoving the passport back to Anya.

Leaving the arrival gates, she scanned the crowd for a familiar face. Her face perk up as she finally spotted her welcoming party, the head of short silver hair standing out amongst the crowd. Warm grey eyes were gazing at her, inspecting her for any signs of unease or injuries. The sharp clack of his ebony boots reverberated throughout the terminal as he strode over in a confident and smart gait. Donned in an elegant green jacket and sleek white pants, the middle aged man radiated an aura of superiority.

" _Moya malen'kaya vorona_ ," said the man, pulling Anya into a hug. " _Ya skuchal po tebe_."

"It's only been two weeks, Nathaniel," Anya replied, pulling out from him embrace. "You don't really miss me. If anything, you're glad us _deti_ are all down in Azerbaijan."

"True," the man replied with a deep laugh, stroking his goatee, his accent was much like Anya's, indiscernible. "I haven't had that much peace and quiet in a long time. Come now, let's go."

A short drive soon took the pair to a quiet neighbourhood, blocks of flats stood row in row. The light grey brick walls and bluish-grey roofs brought a wave of familiarity over Anya, an occasional one painted in moss-green or ochre-orange bringing a touch of variety to the otherwise stale colour scheme. Birch trees lined up along just about every pothole-filled road and wild ungroomed shrubbery sprang up along the building walls. It was far from neat, it was far from inviting, but Anya grew up to love it. To her it had its own special charm.

"Anya, we're here, get your bag."

Anya obliged, heading to the boot of the car and pulling out her knapsack. She followed Nathaniel into one of the blocks. No sooner had she closed the door when a house-elf popped in, his head dipped in a low bow.

" _Gospodin, devushka_ , allow Nippy please," and with a snap of his willowy fingers, both he and Anya's knapsack disappeared.

The pair climbed up to the third floor and a walk into one of the flats revealed not a dwelling like one would expect. Instead, the entirety of the flat has been renovated into a large dining hall, walls that divided rooms removed to make the place spacious. Nathaniel had, in fact, purchased the entire block. The first and second floor had been rented out to fellow wizards and witches, a few ignorant Muggles and a rare tolerant Muggle, with no alterations to the rooms. The upper floors on the other hand, had been mostly renovated to his preference.

Panelled floor and walls of oak seemed to be the theme for the room - for most rooms actually - and in the centre sat a long table surrounded by chairs. An elderly man sat at on the chairs, dressed thick grey robes with purple trimmings, his ashen hair touching his shoulders. A small pile galleons lay in front of him as he hunched over a thick tome, quill in one hand and pointed nose almost touching the pages.

A flicker of the eyes and a short nod was all the recognition he gave the pair.

" _Anya, ty nakonets prishel, eto pis'mo tol'ko chto pribylo iz Gringotts. Vam nuzhno bu_ -"

"Uncle, Russian on the streets, lingua franca at home. That's how it goes in the business and that's how it will go in home." Nathaniel reminded, pulling out a seat for himself.

"As I was saying," the elder continued in a thick Russian accent, scowling at Nathaniel for the interruption. "You need to open this letter, goblin seals are in place, contents of letter will burn if unintended hands open it."

Anya took the letter and looked at it, the red Gringotts seal stamped on it, bearing its coat of arms, goblin runes along its edge and finally the words "Londinium" took place at the bottom of the seal. She then looked at the addressee.

_Miss A. Potter_

_Floor 5, Unit 3_

_Partizanskaya Ulitsa, 58_

_Arkhangel'sk, Arkhangelskaya oblast'_

_Russia_

"What makes you think that I'm Miss A. Potter?" Anya asked the elder, waving the letter.

"You're the only Spook I picked up in England, and the seal shows Gringotts' London Branch. I can add two and two together, _devushka_."

"You never told me you found me in England."

"And you never asked, surprisingly."

"Why did you pick me up anyway?"

"Why wouldn't I pick up a witch capable of accidental magic as a baby?" the elder scoffed, turning back to his tome and galleons. "Found you on a bench on a bridge, crying and completely starving. With the November cold and your inadequate clothing it was a wonder you didn't die from the cold first. Turns out you kept up a warming charm using accidental magic the whole time you were abandoned, of course I was going to pick you up with that level of innate magical capacity."

"Well, what are you staring for?" the elder demanded with a sneer, eyes never leaving the tome. "If it's a Gringotts letter, gold is involved. And I want to find out what they want."

"Ebenezer Scrooge reborn," Anya muttered, tearing open the letter and pulling out the parchment from within, pleased that it did not burn up. She began reading the letter, eyebrows rising higher and higher with each passing line.

"Well, what does it say?" the elder barked impatiently, stabbing the quill in the inkpot.

"Apparently, I'm the twin sister to Britain’s famous Harry Potter and heir to half of the Potter fortune."

Nathaniel rose his eyebrows in amused curiosity, his eyes holding a sparkle of shrewdness suddenly dancing within. The elder all but barked out, "What?!” moving to snatch up the letter from Anya's hands.

_Dear Miss Anne Lily Potter_

_Gringotts wishes you an early Happy Birthday and also wishes to remind you that you still stand available to claim your inheritance from your parents, James Potter and Lily Potter née Evans._

_As your parents did not leave any registered will behind at the time if their deaths, the inheritance will default to the Potter succession law of primogeniture. However, the succession law states that twins will be treated as a single entity and thus inheritance will be treated under gavelkind. In this case, you are entitled to half of the contents of House Potter Vault, along with various assets such as overseas property._

_Please note that as your twin brother Harry James Potter is the older sibling, and thus the Head of House Potter, he will inherit the House Potter Vault actual. You can set up a personal vault of your own for the transfer of your inheritance or come to an agreement with your twin brother._

_However, do note that claiming your inheritance comes under certain conditions. Firstly, it is under the wish of your grandmother Dorea Potter née Black, that any daughter of the Potter complete - at the minimum - their OWL education in Hogwarts specifically in order to claim inheritance unless she is the final heir. This has been established in order to ensure that the Potter wealth can only be inherited by a responsible witch brought up under proper British wizarding culture. This addition to the Potter succession law has been installed by then Head of House, Charlus Potter, and has not changed since._

_As you have yet to register under Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, this letter acts as a two year buffer reminder should you desire to claim your inheritance as you should be eligible for OWLs at the spring of 1996. Please note that this has been the thirteenth letter sent to you._

_Secondly, as you have been registered as 'missing' since the winter of 1991 you will need to register your existence in order to claim your inheritance. Gringotts can understand if your status as 'missing' has been due to private reasons and as such, offers the alternative of abstaining from registering in the British Ministry of Magic and instead register in Gringotts alone. Please be reassured that your confidentiality can be protected under Gringotts._

_Do note that you will have to be at Gringotts in person to register your existence, you will also be able to check the value of your inheritance there._

_We look forward to meeting you. May gold ever flow through your fingers._

_Goldtooth Longfinger,_

_Head of Gringotts Department of Inheritance._

" _Blagoslovite menya_ ," the elder muttered, eyes twinkling in obvious greed as he faced Nathaniel. "This is windfall indeed."

"At what cost?" asked Anya, coming back from the kitchen with an Invigoration Draught in hand. "Having to take up schooling in this Hogwarts. And from what I remember about magical education, I'll have quite a bit to catch up, probably need to register in the coming term if that's the case. Is the Potter fortune worth two years of my time?"

"Most likely," Nathaniel said, eyeing the vial in Anya's hand with distaste. "The Potters have multiple patents to their name, Skele-gro being one of them if I remember. As for catching up, you can spend the rest of the summer and your free time in Hogwarts doing so. I didn’t completely neglect your magical education.”

"That means that they will be rich," the elder grinned. "This opportunity is too good to pass up, nephew. Bring Anya to London as soon as you can."

"Of course, uncle. There is a job there for us anyway, and Anya can help out with that."

"I can?" Anya asked as she downed the entire vial, shuddering in relief.

"The four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup takes place in Britain and there's a contract I signed on with a rich wizard, just providing security. We can go to Gringotts first, look at the inheritance and make a choice. Then, we head up to the world cup site and recce the area."

"And how do I help?"

"Well, I could always use a sniper on site."

**XXXXX**

Harry Potter never really did enjoy his birthdays. This abruptly changed last year when Hedwig and Errol finally brought gifts, cards and well-wishes for a change, and he was pleased when this year was similar. Along with the usual array of candy, a combination of Errol, Hedwig, a Hogwarts owl and a flashy tropical bird brought him cakes and birthday cards from Ron, Hermione, Hagrid and Sirius each. With the diet ongoing in the Dursley household, they were a life saver.

Life with the Dursleys had improved, albeit slightly, with Sirius' help. Having an accused mass murder for a godfather did apply good pressure on the Dursleys. However, being able to spend his birthdays with others would be a large improvement. The Weasleys, Sirius, all of them would be nice to spend birthdays with.

_Or maybe your sister._

That nagging voice bit him harder than it should have, it was nice being able to rejoin your loving godfather but just as sour to learn from him that you lost your sister on the same night your parents died. He had long gotten over his parents' deaths, but this brought a fresh wave of grief.

_Pettigrew had his back against the wall, eyes staring at the tip of two wands, terror etched to his face. Sirius and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised._

_"You should have realised," said Lupin quietly. "If Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Goodbye, Peter."_

_"NO!" Harry yelled. He ran forwards, placing himself in front of Pettigrew, facing the wands. "You can't kill him," he said breathlessly. "You can't."_

_Both Lupin and Sirius looked staggered._

_"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you and your sister have no parents," Sirius snarled. "This cringing bit of-"_

_"My sister?" Harry interrupted, eyes widening in shock. "My sister?"_

_He turned towards Lupin, whose faced mirrored the same expression, staring at Sirius. He looked back at Sirius, the anger on Sirius’ face faltered a little and he froze for a few seconds. Finally, he managed to croak out. "Isn't Anne in Hogwarts here with you?"_

_"Anne?"_

_"Don't you know who Anne Potter is?"_

_Harry slowly shook his head, a pit of dread pooling in his stomach. Sirius anger came back tenfold, shoved pass Harry and slashed his wand upwards. Pettigrew slammed up against the ceiling violently before falling back in a crumpled heap. Cords exploded from the tip of Sirius' wand, pinning Pettigrew hard against the wall. Pettigrew’s head snapped back against the wall, knocking him out cold. Sirius moved towards the unconscious heap, trembling in rage._

_“Not only did you cause the deaths of James and Lily, you had to cause a harmless girl to die too.” Sirius snarled, bringing his wand up once again._

_Lupin leaped forward and grabbed Sirius’ arms, holding him back. “Padfoot, calm down, you need to explain what’s going on. What do you mean Harry’s sister?” he wheezed out as he fought hard to hold a struggling Sirius back, whose emaciated state was made up for by sheer anger. “Dammit Padfoot, I said calm down.”_

_Sirius finally gave up on his struggle, sagging down onto his knees. His hand grabbed his hair wildly with a lost expression on his eyes. Suddenly, he pounced up and grabbed Harry’s shoulder, shaking him as he asked in desperation, “Is there any girl in your year, the same black hair and green eyes as yours?”_

_Harry thought for a while before mutely shaking his head again. Sirius stumbled back onto the ground as though the shake of Harry’s head was a blow to his gut. With shaking hands, he clenched his hand on the floorboard, fingernails scratching against wood. He started mumbling to himself in grief, “Couldn’t be, it couldn’t be. I could have sworn I healed it. I could have sworn I healed it. I could have sworn I healed it. What if it wasn’t enough? What if by the time Dumbledore got her, the damage what beyond healing. I failed. I failed. I failed. Merlin, what have I done? I failed James, I failed Lily and now Anne. I had one job. I had one job. I HAD ONE DAMNED JOB!”_

_Sirius ended off the last sentence with a scream, startling everyone around. Lupin knelt beside Sirius and gently gripped his shoulders. “Breath in, breath out. Calm down, and when you feel like it can you tell us what is going on?”_

_“Moony, it was James and Lily. They-they had twins, it wasn’t just Harry. They had a daughter as well, Harry’s twin sister, Anne.” Everybody’s eyes widen in shock, but Sirius took no notice and continued. “I don’t know why but they kept Anne a secret. It was only them, Dumbledore, me and Peter who knew about her. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you about her Moony, we thought you were the spy.”_

_“What happened to her?” Harry asked, fist clenching._

_“When I went to your parents’ house, I found the both of you in the nursery. You were there in the crib crying, the scar on your head still bleeding. Anne, sh-she…” Sirius faltered, covering his face with his hands and Lupin rubbed his back soothingly. “Voldemort cursed her right eye, sliced it with dark magic.”_

_There was a collective gasp across the room, Hermione covered her mouth with her hands, tears welling up. Both Ron and Lupin winched. Harry stood frozen as Sirius continued on._

_“There was blood all over her face, she was in a right mess. I rushed over and did what I could, I thought I healed her up fine. I left the house with the both of you and ran into Hagrid. I wanted to keep both of you with me, I was your godfather after all, but Hagrid insisted I pass the both of you to him, said that Dumbledore would know what to do with the both of you, and so I did. I made a mistake. I made a stupid mistake. I should have taken her straight to St. Mungo’s, what was I playing at? Trying to heal her myself, and Hagrid would have taken too long to reach Dumbledore.”_

_“It’s alright Padfoot, you did what you could in the given situation. I would have done the same if I were in your shoes,” Lupin said calmly, he looked at Pettigrew and back at Harry. “Well, Harry, do you still want him alive? You always had a kind heart, but I wouldn’t fault you if you want him dead.”_

_“No,” Harry answered, after a long hesitation. “We’ll take him up to the castle. We’ll hand him over to the Dementors. I reckon my dad wouldn’t want his best mates to be murderers.”_

After the whole incident at the Shrieking Shack, time-turner included, Harry went straight to Hagrid’s as soon as he was discharged. He did not want to ask Dumbledore about Anne, it felt wrong in his gut going to him for answers. At Hagrid’s hut, a weeping Hagrid told Harry about the fate of his sister, the joyous mood from Buckbeak’s escape ruined. There, Harry learnt that Dumbledore told Hagrid that Anne did not make it and succumbed to her injury. Since, almost no one knew about the existence of Anne Potter, they thought it best to avoid dredging up unnecessary grief. 

It solved a puzzle Harry had back in his first year when he gazed into the Mirror of Erised. He had wondered who the girl was standing next to him. She was lithe and pretty with a scar down her right eye. However, the right eye itself – as though in defiance of the scar – seemed very much alive and sparkled curiously. She very much resembled their mother, except for the hair and eye colours. She and Harry both bore the same raven hair – albeit neat compared to Harry’s, probably inherited from Lily instead of James - and vivid green eyes. A small part of Harry still held that glimmer of hope that just maybe Dumbledore or Hagrid or even Sirius made a mistake, that it was the wrong child they picked up all along. Instead, somewhere out there was Anne Potter, living with another family. But wouldn't she have entered Hogwarts with him? Harry didn't remember any girls in his year with his black hair and green eyes.

_Maybe she's a squib, or her family moved out of Britain, or sent her to a different school. There's definitely other wizarding schools besides Hogwarts._

Turning, he stared at the cake Sirius gave, his godfather went the extra length by charming a still burning candle on the cake. Wistfully, he closed his eyes and blew the candle.

_Just this once, give me the chance to have my family back._


	3. Through Line Riddled Lens

Chapter 3 – Through Line Riddled Lens

**July 1992**

Blaring horns, massive crowds and a deluge of rain, to say that it was a chore traversing through Bombay during the July monsoon was an understatement. Anya weaved through the crowd, clutching her raincoat ever closer, and promising herself to commit to mastering the Impervius charm after this was over. She shifted and adjusted her knapsack, as though confirming its weight would gave her reassurance. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a vial of Invigoration Draught, swallowing the whole dose in a gulp. She went for a second vial but stopped halfway, she would save that one for later. Her supply was short, and it wouldn’t do to blow them all in a single session, not when everyone was beginning to lock up all the Invigoration Draughts the group had in store. She was sick of the stink eye she received every time she asked for Invigoration Draughts.

"You see anything yet?" her partner, a lanky Russian asked.

Her right eye seemed to flicker and shine with its own life. Strands of colour danced and twisted about her vision, crimson, violet, turquoise and more, each varying in thickness, opacity and movement. They came from everywhere and nowhere, twisting about alleyways, sprouting from her partner and even spiralling out of thin air. Everything was clear, each detail in the crowd and street lucid. From a turn into a drugstore, she finally saw what she was searching for, a thin strand of light blue coiling out of the store, almost transparent amidst the crowd and rain. Their man was smart, relying on the vast quantity of Muggles and the rain to hide his trail.

"Aleks, found it. Drugstore on the left. Portkey signature."

Aleks took the lead, a nondescript wave of his wand to check and clear the place. He strode in and scanned the place finally settling on the shopkeeper. Seeing what appeared to be an Indian father and son duo, the burly Indian gave him an oily smile, welcoming him in a rapid jabber of Hindi. Aleks pointed his wand straight at him and placed him under a Confundus charm.

"That's a sign our glamours worked," Aleks muttered, turning to Anya. "Alright Crow, start working."

Moving to the source of the blue coils, Anya squatted down and peered at the portkey signature, magical traces left behind by an activated portkey. Light bluish lines were gently coiling out from a single hovering ball of blue light beside a shelf of aspirin. Only at a feet above the ground, the ball was the size of a knut. Upon closer inspection, the ball was more like a clump of fragmented strands, each strand slightly different in hue, opacity and vibrating differently in amplitude and frequency. Anya began her work, drawing out her wand and jabbing the ball, muttering under her breath she worked on deciphering the portkey signature. Once the spell was completed, she felt a hum from the tip of her wand traveling down to her wrist where a miniscule script of runes encircled her wrist completely, etched in ink. The humming sensation concentrated on the runes and ink seemed to bleed out of her skin, beneath the set of runes. The ink twirled and twisted into a set of numbers.

_19°04'15.2"N 72°52'21.3"E_

Aleks' was admittedly impressed, he could she why Nathaniel trusted her to perform important roles. Aurors usually track down portkey signatures and decrypt their intended destination through expensive devices and very complex charm work. This girl just used her eye and a runic script, and she performed with clear professionalism. In fact, he was only here to assist, recommend and provide a source of side-along-apparition. She dug her free right hand into her pocket and pulled out a GPS and punched in the numbers, taking a good look at the results.

"Portkey leads to a bridge, just a few klicks out," said Anya, passing over the device to Aleks. "Any recommendations?"

Checking the portkey destination via map or any other means was always a necessary precaution in their line of work. Too many people died from apparating or portkeying straight to a portkey destination without caution.

"This building should do fine," replied Aleks, tilting the device for Anya to see as he pointed at the screen. "Good elevation, appropriate distance."

Anya nodded in agreement and grabbed Aleks' offered hand. With a spin, both of them apparated away with a 'pop'. One unpleasant trip took the pair atop a high rise building, Aleks took point, going straight for the rooftop access and sealing the access door with a locking spell. Anya started preparing, moving methodically, she lowered her knapsack and took out a pair of omniculars a set it on the floor. A few sticks of chalk followed and she began drawing out a circle of runes, right before the rooftop parapet and large enough to accommodate the pair. Once done, she double checked her work, nodding in approval at the disillusionment rune script. She motioned Aleks to come over and the pair settled themselves within the circle, Aleks took the omniculars and propped his elbows on the parapet while Anya rapped her wand on the floor, pumping magic into the runes.

She closed her left eye and stared at the runes for a few seconds, seeing the twirl of translucent glass-like cords seeping out from the runes. "Cloaking is good."

Aleks grunted in response, shoving the omniculars against his eyes and began to scout out the disclosed bridge. Finally, Anya took out the last item from her knapsack, her prized possession. It was a SVD-63, a Dragunov sniper rifle, developed in the Soviet Union and the second half of the two-part gift Nathaniel gave her for her seventh birthday. The rifle came with a wooden handguard and stock, runes were craved all over the rifle, from the muzzle down to the stock. Within the rifle, each individual parts too were carved with runes, from firing pin to trigger. At the bolt carrier, a single dragon heartstring was embedded in the metal. Anya pulled out the magazine and checked the bullets, the runes engraved on them were in order, and so she slid the magazine back in. Satisfied, she began scanning the bridge along with Aleks, each taking a side of the bridge and both working in silence. This went on for a few minutes before Aleks sounded out.

"Anya, I think I found him, can't confirm in this rain though, visibility is bad. There's a gathering of people on the bridge. Eastern part of the bridge. Range, thousand and three hundred meters."

Peering through the scope, Anya confirmed her partner's suspicion. In front of the traffic was a Chinese in a suit, briefcase in hand, at least he had the decency to look Muggle. He stood on the walkway of the bridge, facing a lanky Indian, this one did not possess the similar level of subtlety, dressed in extravagant robes of magenta. Both men seemed to be in deep conversation, the surrounding people loitering about had to be the bodyguards. This had to be the target, Anya could see the strings of magic sprouting out from all of them, there simply would not be another gathering of wizards so close to the portkey destination.

"You're right on that, Aleks," Anya confirmed, beginning to slow her breathing down as she rested her Dragunov on the parapet, adjusting the crosshair on her quarry. As her finger closed about the trigger, familiar white lines flickered into her vision, from her periphery to her target. It twirled and pulsated in an uneven spiral, like a cord being unwound and wound.

_Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale._

_Unwound. Wound. Unwound. Wound._

At her final exhale, the lines converged and drew taut. Her finger squeezed against the trigger and she felt the satisfying recoil of her rifle and heard only the whisper of a soft ‘thump’. In the scope, she saw a thin spray of crimson erupt from her quarry's head. He was dead, there was no doubt. No amount of healing magic can revive a person who took a bullet in the head. Not when the runes on the bullet ensured that it violently fragmented within the head, rupturing the brain. The surrounding wizards drew out their wands and began casting spells all over the bridge, but the deed was done.

"That's a hit," Aleks said, tossing the omniculars and chalk back in the knapsack. He waited for Anya to stow her rifle and sling her knapsack before grabbing her hand. A wave of his wand erased any traces of the runic circle Anya drew. The bullet casing on the floor went ignored, the runes etched on it would vanish it away in ten seconds, same for the bullet fragments lodged in their quarry's head. Immediately, he spun about and apparated the both of them away, they would be taking the next flight from India to Thailand, before bouncing back to Russia and relaxing over a job well done.

**XXXXX**

"So, any regrets?" Nathaniel asked, drumming his fingers against a wooden table. "It's not a bad choice after all."

The Leaky Cauldron was packed and filled with an excited buzzed, the Quidditch World Cup fever was reaching its apex, wizards and witches were all discussing on the upcoming finals. Forecast, bets and debates we're being passed around throughout the pub. Nathaniel and Anya, on the other hand, silently sat down in a corner of the pub, both nursing a bottle of butterbeer.

The trip to Gringotts had been very enlightening, Anya remembered the height in which her eyebrows rose when she saw the number of digits in the Potter account. The properties she stood to gain were good too, they spanned from Britain itself to other countries such as France, Italy and Norway. All this for two years of schooling to scrape a couple of OWLs. It wasn't a bad idea, she could take this as an extended break from her usual line of jobs. On top of that, completion of OWL education only meant obtaining a minimum of three OWLs. After a lengthy discussion with Nathaniel, they agreed on placing Anya in Hogwarts for the inheritance, it was more than worth the time. Nathaniel had already drew up some bogus academic certificates from a random magical school in Russia, it should be enough to get Anya’s ‘transfer’ to Hogwarts approved. The Hogwarts Board of Governors would not bother to look deep into her records, not with the magical government of Russia in such a sorry state. At least the massive screw up Nathaniel’s grandfather made had some good come out from it.

With that choice made, all that followed was a signing of a few Gringotts paperwork and a blood authentication check to confirm her existence within Gringotts' records. A trip down Diagon Alley was in order, books, potions ingredients and robes soon found themselves within a magically expanded duffel bag. Once everything was settled, the pair found themselves in Leaky Cauldron.

"None at all Nathaniel," mused Anya. "I mean... I suppose I get to be a 'normal' kid for two years. Maybe that will do wonders for me."

"You can take the girl out of the Spook, but you can't take the Spook out of the girl."

"That's cheesy and you ought to be ashamed of yourself," Anya replied with an amused smile, she finished the last of her butterbeer before asking Nathaniel. "Shouldn't we be going soon?"

Nathaniel nodded in response and gestured for her to leave, the both of them left the pub to the Muggle world of London. They went to a deserted alleyway and Nathanial side-along-apparated Anya and him both to the Quidditch World Cup site. The pair landed a mile away from the actual grounds, with staff from both the Department of Magical Games and Sports and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement running all over the ground in preparations, it would not be wise to apparate right in the middle of it all without permission.

They both begin their respective work, Nathanial started scouting out the area, probing the ward systems and taking note of the security details in place. He had signed on a contract to provide protection to one Ethan Dawn, a rich wizarding business man who made one too many enemies cutting out bad deals, scams and lawsuits. Death threats came in Howlers and cursed letters, but he was an ardent Quidditch fan, there was no way he was going to miss out on the Quidditch World Cup – especially one hosted in his country. Still, he was a cautious man all too aware of many people who would be glad to see a curse hit his back. A short talk with one of his business partners soon brought a certain network into his view and the contract was put, with a tidy sum stated at the end of the contract.

Anya just sat on the ground and began fishing out the textbooks from her duffel bag. Despite Nathaniel, his uncle and various other people teaching her magic, in terms of the schooling syllabus she was still in a second-year standard as they only taught her spells they considered ‘necessary’. After all, certain charms and potions may be useful, but in her line of work, charms to make inanimate objects dance are next to stupid and potions can simply be bought instead of brewed. With that in mind, Nathaniel insisted she began catching up the moment she got her books. If she wanted to avoid joining the third-years when she was old enough for the forth-year, she better get her bearings straight.

However, with only a minimum of three OWLs to be considered as receiving an OWL education, Anya had the freedom to cherry pick her focus of studies. In all honesty, she felt that she was already set to get three OWLs, Nathaniel had a talent in transfiguration and so did she, he drilled her hard on transfiguration as it was often used and he had a bias towards it. For her electives, she was going for Study of Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies. These she felt she could already take the OWLs for them, nearly all the runic modifications to her equipment were done by herself and being raised in practically a Muggle environment meant that Muggle Studies was a free pass. In fact, without any actual studying, Muggle Studies should be a free Outstanding to any Muggleborns and at least a free Acceptable to any Half-bloods. Transfiguration, Study of Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies, these three could be her aces, and any other subject was of secondary concern.

This pattern of Nathaniel scouting and Anya studying went on for the rest of the duration, with only an interruption in the form of a Hogwarts owl confirming that Anya’s application for transfer was accepted. Days flew by and soon, the day of the Quidditch World Cup finals arrived. Anya once again found herself laying on the ground within a disillusionment rune circle, omniculars in hand and her Dragunov beside her. She was positioned atop a small hill overlooking the site, the camping site and path to the stadium were all in her field of vision. Half her attention was on picking out threats while the other half amused herself with the outlandish array of muggle clothing the wizards and witches donned amidst an equally outlandish array of blatantly magical tents, the Oblivators were probably having a headache at the moment.

Nathaniel would be with Dawn in person as a bodyguard, the later had already procured a ticket for the former as part of the contract. Since it was agreed upon that anyone with the intent of harming Dawn would unlikely do so in a crowded stadium for all to see, Anya only needed to cover the camping grounds and the path to the stadium. The relatively emptier camping grounds and footpaths to the stadium with the nearby forests provided more places to carry out a hit and run.

She focused the omniculars on the apparition point, the numbers 11:50 flashed on a corner of the lens. Ten minutes to noon, Nathaniel and Dawn should arrive any moment. True to her thoughts, a whirl of clothes materialised in the form of Nathaniel and Dawn. The former disguised under glamour charms was dressed in a bomber jacket and cargo pants, the latter wearing – Anya did a double take – a bathrobe. Well… it was not that bad, she had seen worse a few minutes ago, a wizard who mistook a clown costume for actual muggle clothes took the cake, his antics with one of the ministry staff was a laugh to say the least.

“Crow, this is Nathaniel,” a voice came from the ear studs she was wearing. “We just arrived at the apparition point, anything to watch out for?”

“Nothing at the moment. If I were to wager, Mr. Dawn is a little too paranoid and he is just giving us free money.”

“Noted. We’ll be moving then, keep your eyes sharp.”

She placed down her omniculars and picked up her rifle, with a sigh she went to work, it was going to be long day. The pair moved uneventfully through the camping site before entering the stadium itself. There were none of the all too familiar blue coils of a portkey lying in wait to ferry off Dawn to his death, there were no sinister vibrations of dark magic to be seen, neither were there translucent cords of a disillusionment charm hiding a potential murderer.

_Scratch the last one._

Anya adjusted her sights to the shimmer of translucent cords amidst the site, there was disillusionment charms in play. In her crosshairs, all she sighted was a female house-elf – or was it male? She could hardly tell the difference. The hidden person was there, not that she could see the person, she only saw the charm’s magic. The person was either under a disillusionment charm or a cloak using it, why there was a house-elf escorting the person was beyond her.

“Alright, we’re in the stadium,” Nathaniel stated.

“Roger. I see a disillusionment charm in play, might want to be careful. There is a house-elf following it, you can use that as reference.”

“Is it coming near us?”

“No, it’s moving to the Top Box gate, VIP seating.”

“That means it’s not a threat to us. Too far away, probably another person like our Mr. Dawn here who doesn’t want bad attention to himself.”

Anya kept silent and shifted uneasily, a house-elf following someone under disillusionment charms who was entering the VIP seating was too suspicious for her liking. As though sensing her concern, Nathaniel spoke up once again.

“Relax, Crow. It’s nothing dangerous, I’m on the site and we are already in the stadium. You can relax until the match is over, read one of your textbooks, or even listen in on the commentary.”

Finally, Anya relented and grabbed her copy of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3_ and began reading, ignoring the riotous waves of cheering erupting from the stadium. Hours went by before she noticed a barrage of green fireworks lighting up the stadium as another roar of voices burst from the stadium. The match was over and Ireland won, evident from the green fireworks.

“I take it that the match the just ended?” Anya asked. “Victor Krum is a let-down if the colour of the fireworks are anything to go by.”

“Yes it did, and I’m amazed that you actually follow Quidditch. Dimitri must be rubbing off on you. Next thing I know, you’ll be lamenting that this year’s FIFA finals had to end in penalties,” Nathaniel replied. “Krum wasn’t a let-down though, the rest of Bulgarian team was. Frankly, next to the Irish, any team will be. We’re heading down now, Dawn is going to meet up with some of his friends. He probably plans on getting piss drunk with them. I checked on his friends, they have a tent directly South of your location, about four hundred meters. Big red tent was the description, check the area first before we reach there.”

Anya complied and found nothing noteworthy. Once again, she herself adjusting her sights on a swirl of translucent cords and a house-elf. They were too suspicious, she was going to have to keep an eye on them. The swirl ended up disappearing into a tent, she sighed. If only she could see through solid objects as well, that would have been good. Resigned, she settled down on keeping a watch over Nathaniel and Dawn as the latter partied away. The hidden person’s tent was far away from them, he should not be a threat.

Time passed before something happened that opened the adrenaline floodgates in Anya, one green flash somewhere in the camping grounds, followed by the warm glow of fire. Her relaxed body suddenly jerked up and she found her fingers flying for the trigger of her rifle. Swinging the rifle over to the source to distress, she peered through the scope to find the cause of the green flash.

Through the lens, she saw a group of masked and hooded figures marching down the camp site, waving their wands without care. The fire behind them flared up into a full blown inferno, stray spells were flying all over. At the centre of the group, a few figures were levitated and contorted. What concerned her more was the few stray figures running around, separate from the pack. They were too close to Nathaniel and Dawn for comfort and she could not possible keep track of all of them.

“Nathaniel, danger. Seems like a riot is going on. Masked and hooded figures. Stray spells all over the place. Main group of them is northeast of you, about a hundred meters. Lone wolves running around the whole place.”

“Got it, I’ll get Dawn and the two of us will disapparate out. Once the two of us are clear, you can head on out. Until then, cover us.”

“Too late on that first part, Nathaniel,” said Anya as she saw strands burst from behind a tent, washing over the area in reddish lines. She recognised it as an Anti-Disapparation Jinx, it was cast by either one of the masked men preventing his victims from escaping or an Auror trying to catch the former. “Anti-Disapparation Jinx is up, just grab him and run, its range isn’t far. Twenty meters at most.”

“Understood.”

“Shoot to kill?”

“Shoot to kill.”

In the scope, she saw Nathaniel exit the tent, pulling a terrified Dawn with him. Shield charms flew out of Nathaniel’s wand as he pushed Dawn down, keeping him out from any line of fire. One rogue hex splashed against his shield as the pair began to hurry away from the source of flashing lights and loud bangs. Around the corner of a tent, a pair of terrified witches ran past the pair, Anya saw one of the lone masked man chasing the witches, he would run into Nathaniel and Dawn within seconds. Relaxing herself, she released her breath and squeezed the trigger, blood sprayed from the person’s neck and the body dropped flat on the ground.

“Thanks for that.”

“No problem.”

From another corner, another masked man approached the pair. This time, Nathaniel was faster than Anya, she did not even rest her finger on the trigger before a swift flick of his wand banished the masked man into a tent, the entire tent collapsing on as the masked man flew into it. Nathaniel gave a rough pull and dragged Dawn on.

“Crow, I don’t like this. All these tents provide too much corners for the both of us and you can’t get a good line of sight. How far until we exit the jinx?”

“Few more meters and you’re good,” Anya replied, watching the pair rush on before they finally left the whirlpool of reddish lines. “Now. You’re in the clear.”

Nathaniel needed no more instructions and he immediately spun on the spot, bringing Dawn and him away. It was then that Anya heard a fresh wave of shrieks and screams coming, she turned and saw from another corner of the camping grounds a large cloud, glittering and green. A skull with a serpent coming out through the mouth. The Dark Mark.

Clearly, she had already overstayed. She stowed away her rifle, omniculars and books, a wave of her wand erased the runic circle she was in. Using a portkey to escape was most tempting, but an unauthorised portkey was illegal in Britain. It would not be surprising if the horde of fleeing bystanders were already creating unauthorised portkeys to escape en masse, maybe hers could slip through Britain’s National Ward Grid undetected amongst the mass of desperate and illegal portkeys. However, she was not going take chances, not when Nathaniel left her with a ready form of escape, one she was all too willing to use.

Anya did a final check for any forgotten belongings before slinging her knapsack over and drawing out her wand and sidearm, a Makarov pistol engraved with her standard firearm runes. Silencing runes, stability runes, accuracy runes, cooling runes and acceleration runes. She began running away from the scene, down the hill and trees before reaching her getaway.

It was a Honda ATC250R, a three-wheeled all-terrain vehicle, parked on a dirt track under a disillusionment charm. It was an old model but that made it cheap to rent, not that it mattered when the Muggle in charge of renting it out can be Confunded; the real reason Nathaniel provided it instead of a broom. She mounted the vehicle and cast a disillusionment charm on herself, it was weak – her rune circle versions where much better – but it would do the job. Turing the ignition, she revved up the engine and sped away, kicking up dust behind her. Wind swept against her face and she cracked a wide smile, speeding down the streets of Arkhangelsk on Aleks’ motorbike had always been one of her favourite pastimes and this feeling was close enough. With a final glace at the Dark Mark behind, she drove off into the night, memories of night time rides with Dimitri, avoiding an irate Aleks who did not want children touching his motorbike and stealing cans of pickled fruits off the local grocery with Wei Jen filled her mind.

**XXXXX**

The mood in the tent was not a happy one, the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione all sat around a table, discussing the recent events. After Hermione’s rant at the treatment of house-elves, the conversation soon turned to the potential identities of the masked men. Nearly everyone was adamant that the masked men had been Death Eaters who managed to dodge an Azkaban sentence, though there was hardly any solid evidence for it. A distraction came in the form of Percy entering the tent, sporting a bruised cheek.

“Father, I just came back with Auror Dawlish and a few enforcers, we found a dead body belonging to one of those masked man.”

Shocked silence enveloped the tent, Fred’s jaw dropping into a large ‘O’ while Ginny dropped the mug of warm tea she was drinking.

“Impossible,” Mr Weasley said weakly. “None of us could get near any of them without them disapparating at the last moment.”

“Who was it?” George demanded. “Come on Perce, out with it.”

“It was Lewis Rosier,” said Percy. “Brother of the late Death Eater Evan Rosier, he was trialled for being a Death Eater too, got off by saying his brother placed him under the Imperius curse.”

“I knew it,” Ron burst out. “Of course those nutters were all Death Eaters, who else could it be?”

“Yeah! Come on, Dad, the ministry can now have proof that the lot of them are the old Death Eaters,” Fred added, having recovered from his initial shock. “Just have the Aurors arrest and interrogate them.”

“Fred, it’s not that simple,” Mr Weasley replied wearily. “Just because one of them was an ex-Death Eater, we can prove that all of them are.”

“Correlation does not imply causation,” Bill summarised. “However, do we have any idea who killed him and how he died?”

“That’s the part that got us stumped,” said Percy uncomfortably. “No one was able figure it out. At first, Auror Dawlish reckoned that Rosier got hit with a stray curse from either a desperate bystander who knew his dark magic or one of their own masked men. Upon further spellwork, Auror Dawlish said that there was not a hint of dark magic on Rosier’s body. In fact, there was no any sign of magical damage at all. That was why we were all confused, with the wounds on Rosier, it had to be a powerful curse that done him in, yet there was no dark magic involved.”

“What kind of wounds?” Ginny asked, her face paling at the thought of a body mangled by dark magic.

“Simply put, Rosier’s neck was not a pretty sight. Had to be a combination of a piercing curse, cutting curse or some curse that dealt internal bodily damage, I don’t know to be honest,” answered Percy, his face a little green from the memory. “All I know is that it had to be dark magic to render someone’s neck to that state. There was this large wound on his left neck and then there these small ruptures on the other side of the wound as though the spell exploded from inside his neck out when it made that large wound, and there was-“

“Alright, Percy. You can stop now,” Mr Weasley cut in loudly, his hands covering Ginny’s ears.

“Maybe it was some kind of foreign spell that didn’t involve dark magic,” Hermione theorised weakly. “After all, there were wizards from all over the world here, maybe one of them knew some exotic spell that couldn’t be detected?”

“You too Hermione,” Mr Weasley sighed. “We should all cut this short and get to bed, it’s late and I fear tomorrow is going to be a long day.”


	4. Hogwarts

Chapter 4 – Hogwarts

Summer came to a halt on the first of September, the schooling year had begun. Anya found herself alone on the platform, the shining red train that was the Hogwarts Express stood in front of her in all its glory. Around her, students and family milled about the platform, saying their final goodbyes. Heaving her trunk on board the train, Anya was inwardly glad that Nathaniel dropped her off early at King’s Cross Station, most of the compartments were empty and she got to have her pick.

As she settled herself down, she started on her textbooks right away. If she was going to get her OWLs done, she had to do catching up during her free time. With an Astronomy book in hand she began reading through it in distaste, that subject was practically useless in her opinion. Knowing where all the stars were would only be useful in Divination, which she did not take, and certain branches of Ritual Magic, which she did not bother with. To her, the only star worth knowing was Polaris, the North Star, for the sole sake of navigation in the event she did not have a compass in hand.

One hour into the reading and her brain was straining, she placed down her book and slouched onto her seat, the sharp whistle signified the departure of the Hogwarts Express. Taking out a mirror, she checked her reflection. The scar on her right eye was missing, good. She remembered what Nathaniel said to her as he applied a strong set of glamour charms to hide the scar.

_“Your scar needs to be hidden if you’re going to Hogwarts.”_

_“Why?”_

_“You were born as Anne Potter, brother to what Britain considers their wizarding hero. When the British Dark Lord Voldemort died at his hands, someone was there to retrieve your brother. It should be safe to assume that you, as his twin sister, would be right next to him when he was retrieved.”_

_“Be in the end, I was found abandoned on a bridge,” Anya said, catching on to his intentions._

_“Correct. Add that with your wounded eye, we can’t be sure if that was Voldemort’s work or someone else, but what is certain is that somebody who fetched your brother wanted you dead to a degree. That person didn’t kill you on the spot, so I’d guess that that person chickened out or had something else holding him back. What we can be certain is that someone among the group of people who brought your brother to safety wanted you dead. If that group of people is still currently keeping him safe, you will be in danger by being in proximity with him, which you will be because he’s attending Hogwarts too.”_

_“So you glamour just my eye and not my entire appearance?” Anya asked quizzically, hinting a drop of doubt in Nathaniel’s plan._

_“Don’t be stupid Crow, changing your entire appearance long-term is too difficult and taxing, and you are going to have to maintain the glamours. Scars are obvious, especially in the magical world. Scars from physical damage can be removed, but scars from curses – such as yours – cannot be removed. Any girl can show up with black hair and green eyes, you haven’t been seen in Britain for thirteen years. Add in a distinct cursed scar, however, and you’ll be a dead giveaway.”_

_“Understood. Well,_ Uvidimsya sleduyushchim letom. _”_

_“_ Proshchay _,” Nathaniel said, patting Anya on the shoulders. “_ Ya budu skuchat' po tebe _.”_

The sharp tug of the compartment door opening ripped Anya out from her reverie, she hand instinctively went into her jacket and gripped on the handle of her pistol holstered beneath. A look at the person standing the door allowed her to relax slightly.

“There is no need to jump straight for your wand, I was just checking if this compartment was occupied.”

At the door was a blonde about Anya’s age, she wore smooth robes of silk and had deep blue eyes. She stood with a confidence and poise that signalled a rich upbringing.

“Mind if my younger sister and I join in?” the girl asked. “Everywhere else is pretty full?”

Anya nodded stiffly, gesturing for her to take seat. The girl cracked a small smile and carried her trunk in with her.

“Thank you very much,” she said, before turning to the door. “Tori, you can come in now.”

A head of dark brown poked into view, glancing around the compartment. She too carried in her trunk and settled herself next to her older sister. Her eyes were fixed on Anya, and with an innocent child-like look of curiosity on her face, “I haven’t seen you before, you seem to be in my sister’s year.”

“Transfer student,” Anya replied who finally released her hold on her pistol and instead begun fishing for a textbook to read.

“How come you’re already reading the textbooks?” the younger girl asked, eyes widening with even greater curiosity and head tilting her head as though in confusion. “We haven’t even started school yet. Also where are you from?”

“Tori, stop prying,” the older girl said sharply. “I’m sorry about that, my younger sister is a very curious girl. Name’s Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass. This is my younger sister, Astoria.”

“A pleasure. Anya Seryy.”

“Hey! You never answered my question,” Astoria exclaimed with an adorable pout.

Anya glanced at Astoria, looking into her eyes for a brief moment. She noticed that unlike the rest of her face, the little girl’s brown eyes were cold and calculating. This girl was fishing for information, and she knew how to make use of her cherubic face to do just that. No wonder Anya felt a gush a nostalgia when she saw Astoria’s actions, it reminded her of herself when she was younger. A time when her innocent face held more weight for her team than a sniper rifle.

“In Russia, the syllabus is a little different from here in Britain,” Anya answered with a warm simile, her eyes glazed as old memories came back to her.

_“Excuse me… sir?” the little girl meekly whimpered out in Russian, tugging on the sleeves of the man standing outside the walls of an industrial warehouse complex. The man had a cigarette lit between his teeth, the arm which sleeves were tugged on hung limply by his side, the other arm cradled an old, beaten AK-47. The girl didn’t seem fazed by it though._

_“What?” the man grunted back in thick Russian. His smoke break just started and already he was disturbed. His annoyed countenance dropped the moment he saw the pitiful face staring at him. Her clothes were a little worn out, but nothing to suggest her being a waif. One of her eyes was covered in a white band of cloth the circled her head, the other bright green eye was wide with tears. She did not seem like a beggar or vagrant at all, more like a local neighbourhood child who wandered too far while playing._

_“Oh… um… sorry girl, what’s the problem,” the man stumbled, despite holding a gun he was still human. Most of their hearts soften at such a sight._

_“My cat jumped into the window of the building behind there,” the girl pointed behind him with a shivering hand. “The window was next to this bright blue door.”_

_Bright blue door. The back entrance. Hardly anyone used it, hardly anyone even guarded it, not even the Spooks. They just did some hocus pocus and told them all the back entrance was safe. The man sighed, unsure of what to do. Then again, the back entrance was accessible to anyone who knew the code for the number lock. It was protected by the two Spooks’ hocus pocus, they never mentioned the details, but it summed up to the door being the only way in from the back. Apparently, it didn’t keep cats out, now the man understood what the ball of fur zooming pass him a few moments ago was._

_The man looked at the girl’s shivering frame and vivid green eye, it wouldn’t do to leave this poor lass out in the late evening. He had a lot of spare time and the back entrance room had all the doors closed, the cat couldn’t enter the compound from that room. It either had to stay there or leave. Furthermore, there was nothing at all in the room, just trash, practically nobody goes there despite knowing the code for the number lock._

_“Alright girl,” the man sighed. "I'll open the door for you. If the cat's still in there, good for you. If not, it went away and that's just bad luck. I give you a minute to search, understood?"_

_“Understood. If cat in take out, if cat not in, it left the place. One minute to search,” the girl echoed, nodding with the semblance of an obedient daughter who knew to follow instructions. The man clearly saw the semblance, his shoulders relaxing as he saw her response._

_“Good girl, come along now.”_

_Leading the girl to the door, he was about to turn in the number combination before the girl piped up in childish ignorance._

_"Sir, how do you open the door without any keys?"_

_"Oh, this door uses a number lock," the man explained, shifting aside to let the girl see him enter the code and unlock the door. "You just turn the wheels here to the right number and the door unlocks."_

_Her eyes lit up in fascination. The man smiled. He had a little sister much like the girl too. The girl wondered inside and at the centre sat a tabby cat. Squealing in delight, the girl picked the cat up and began to thank the man_

_"It's nothing," grinned the man goofily. "You better run off now, the sun is going to set soon."_

_The girl did just that, dashing around the corner with the cat in arm, not too slow, not too fast. She ran to a side street and around a corner. There, a lanky Russian stood waiting for her._

_“You got it?” he asked expectantly, this time in English. A wave of his wand returned the tabby cat back into a brick._

_“Code is seven-three-three-four. I don’t know where their Spook is though.”_

_“Their Spook was at the east side building balcony. He doesn’t patrol, just maintains the wards. You did good Anya.”_

_“No problem, Aleks. Can we go home now?”_

“Well, well. Why did you come to Hogwarts then?” Astoria’s question shook Anya out of her memories.

“Family,” Anya did not mind humouring her, there was some joy in seeing a ‘junior’ trying to do the same thing.

“What do you by ‘family’? Did your family move here to stay in Britain? Were you forced to leave Russia? Father said that the state of that country has been in tatters since the ‘Uprising’.”

The rest of the train ride proceeded in a similar fashion. Anya stuck to reading her textbooks while Astoria kept peppering her with questions without – to Anya’s respect – sounding annoying at all. The elder Greengrass kept mostly to herself before excusing herself to find her friends.

Soon she found herself following the first-years at the Hogsmeade Station, under a torrential downpour. She drew her wand and cast an Impervius charm on herself, silently thanking the Indian Monsoons for teaching her an early lesson. The sound of a half-giant booming out, “Firs’-years this way!” drew her attention and she soon joined the herd to a fleet of small wooden boats. The first-years ogled at her like some exotic specimen, clearly a fourteen year old joining them was a source of confusion. Settling into one of the boats, she joined the first years in their pilgrimage across the Great Lake, weathering the raging rain. Around the corner, she finally caught sight of Hogwarts itself. The sight was breathtaking, with its spires and towers all laid atop one another in a fashion that screamed magic.

The boats soon came to a stop and as the group left their boats, shaking their heads and wringing their clothes to remove as much rainwater as possible. Hagrid led the bunch to an oak door and knocked on it, which promptly swung open to reveal a tall, black-haired witch. Her aged face had its share of wrinkles and she surveyed the group with a stern face.

“Firs’-years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid, shifting aside to pass the limelight to the witch.

“Thank you, Hagrid,” Professor McGonagall gave Hagrid a curt nod before facing the first-years. “If the rest of you would kindly follow me.”

The first-years nervously began to follow Professor McGonagall, all of them peering curiously at the Entrance Hall, amazed by the sheer grandeur of it. With a sweeping look across the crowd, Professor McGonagall began addressing them.

“Welcome to Hogwarts, the start-of-term banquet will begin shortly. Before that, the sorting will begin to determine which house you will spend the rest of your time in Hogwarts at. The houses you are sorted to will be akin to your second family, you will have classes and spend free time with your house and you will sleep in the house dormitories.”

“There are four houses, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each with its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of each year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. Hopefully, you will be a boon to whichever house you are sorted to. The sorting will begin shortly, I suggest you all smarten yourself up before the sorting begins.”

A few minutes passed by as the first-years all shifted about edgily. Professor McGonagall soon ushered them into the Great Hall where they had the full attention of the rest of the Hogwarts population. In a single file, they lined up in front of the Sorting Hat, which on cue ripped its mouth open and began to sing. Its tune was simple and its voice monotonous, the younger students listened on eagerly while the older ones who had clearly listened to it long enough just lazed about in boredom.

A wave of applause came from everyone as the Sorting Hat finished its song, Professor McGonagall took out a scroll of parchment and unrolled it, announcing the start of the sorting.

"Ackerley, Stewart!"

The names progressed on from the 'B's and slowly to the last of the 'W's, coming to a close with 'Whitby, Kevin!". As the last of the first-years finished their sorting, Anya's presence was beginning to be noticed, students whispered among themselves as they speculated her reason for being part of the sorting. Anya managed to pick up snippets of their conversations about where she stood.

"Isn't she a bit too old to be here?"

"She could have come here from home schooling."

"Come off it, me aunt knows all private tutors in Britain and she never heard of a girl that age who was home schooled."

"Maybe she is a first-year who had an accident with an aging potion."

"Adrian, are you a duffer or are you just too hungry to think?"

Finally, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and the mild buzzing ceased.

“In addition to the first-years, we have a transfer student from Russia who will be joining us this year. She will be joining the fourth-years and I expect each and every single one of you to welcome her to Hogwarts with open arms. Let us show to her the hospitality of Hogwarts and Britain. Seryy, Anya!”

Anya took her cue, stepping forward to sit on the three-legged stool. The Sorting Hat was lowered onto her and she waited.

“Anya Seryy,” a little voice mused in her ear. “I thought you were gone from this world, which is what everyone else thought. I must say, your brother would be most pleased to hear of your true identity, Miss Potter.”

“Hmm…” the voice hummed. “You share your brother’s courage, but you are much more wary. Much more cautious. You have a sense of cunning and deceit within you too.”

“It’s my upbringing I suppose,” Anya shrugged. “Do you sort by nature or nurture? Both? I expect each to yield different results. I suppose which house I enter will be evidence on which factor you weigh more.”

“I have a right mind to place you in Ravenclaw just for that. However, that would not do. You would do much better in SLYTHERIN!”

The last word echoed throughout the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall picked up the Sorting Hat and gestured Anya to the table of green. The Slytherin regarded her with equal parts suspicion and curiosity. A sixth-year with a Prefect badge pinned on his robes got up and shook her hand. “Welcome to Hogwarts. Welcome to Slytherin. I hope you enjoy your time here.”

“I do hope so too.” Anya replied politely. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar brunette waving at her and gesturing the empty spot next to her. Anya complied, taking a seat next to the younger Greengrass.

“Seryy. So good to see you, I knew you would end up Slytherin. Since we’re in the same house, we should get familiar with other, you can call me Astoria. Mind if I call you Anya?”

In front of the students, empty dishes began to fill up with a plethora of food and the students started piling up their plates.

“I don’t mind,” Anya responded, helping herself with some lamb chops. “What made you think that I would end up in Slytherin?”

“It’s simple, really. A number of Slytherins here may be just dim-witted brutes like Crabbe and Goyle over here,” Astoria nodded over to a pair of overweight fourth-years stuffing ravenously their faces with roast beef. “But there are also the true Slytherins,” tilting her head up in joyous pride as she said so, “like me and my sister who are here on grounds of being sly and cunning. You are like us, I can tell when I see your eyes. It can be cold and calculating, that’s the eyes I saw on the train and right then I knew you had to be a Slytherin.”

“This that why you started asking me question after question?” Anya asked wryly.

“It is good to get to know your future housemates after all,” Astoria nodded chirpily as she ate. “And you seemed to be very interesting. Shame we aren’t in the same year.”

“So are you actually from Russia?” a third-year beside them chimed in.

“Spent my whole life there,” said Anya with a nod.

“Merlin, that must be terrible,” a seventh-year girl down the table exclaimed. “My mom and her tea friends all talked about how the Russian Ministry is in a torn down state and completely corrupted. ‘Such a state of corruption is completely unbefitting a country that used to hold Pureblood houses in high esteem,’ she said.”

“Burke, that’s pretty rich coming from your mother considering how she bribed an officer from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures over an illegally owned fire crab,” said a sixth-year boy beside her with a frown. “Besides, it’s not like the Russian Ministry spontaneously imploded itself into its current state. It practically had the first wizarding war of the twentieth century, it broke and reformed and then broke again. It’s kind of expected actually.”

“Well, how was it in Russia?” the third-year asked.

“Not that bad,” Anya mused. “Life there is really down to enjoying the little things in life.”

“Quidditch! How about that World Cup finals lads?” someone at the table proclaimed, resulting in a ripple of appreciative chuckles.

“So you’re the transfer student in our year,” a smooth voice came from Anya’s back. She turned to find a fellow fourth-year with platinum blonde hair. “It seems like the purebloods from Russia aren’t so bad, you are pureblood aren’t you? You wouldn’t be in Slytherin otherwise. Name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”

“A pleasure.”

“Are you a pureblood?” Malfoy pressed, arching an eyebrow questioningly.

“I thought Slytherin valued ambition and resourcefulness over blood status? Though I assure you that you have nothing to fear over my blood status.”

Malfoy’s stance relaxed a little, but his eyes were still narrowed in suspicion.

There was a silent agreement as everyone moved on to their own separate conversations. Soon, the scraps of dinner left on the dishes were magically cleared away, making space for desert. When desert found its way in the stomachs of the satisfied students, Albus Dumbledore got onto his feet and a wave of silence washed over the students, all attention on the headmaster.

“So!” said Dumbledore, smiling at the mass of students. “Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.”

The usual notices on banned objects and reminders on school rules came to a climax as Dumbledore’s speech was cut off by the doors of the Great Hall bursting open. A scarred and grizzled man limped his way into the Great Hall, his wooden leg made clunking noises as he walked. What shocked the students the most was his magical blue eye whirling about in its socket. His eccentricity simply left the Great Hall in a stupefied silence. The stranger paid no heed to the attention and strode up to Dumbledore, shaking the headmaster’s hand and exchanging a few words.

Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side. The stranger sat down and pulled a plate of sausages towards him, inspecting the sausages closely with both eyes and nose before deeming them safe to consume. All the while, his blue eye kept darting around, looking at every corner of the Great Hall.

“May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody.”

There was a few scattered clapping from Dumbledore and Hagrid, but the rest of the Great Hall was still stuck in its stunned silence.

“Who on earth is he?” Anya asked.

“That’s Mad-Eye Moody, a retired Auror,” Astoria answered. “He used to catch a lot of Dark Wizards back in his days, went crazy with paranoia at some point of time.”

Anya bit her tongue in discomfort, this might turn out a little awkward, considering how she usually spent her time on the other side of the law. She rarely had to deal with the Russian Aurors, but she knew that handling them was not difficult when prepared, concealed explosives or sniper fire usually did the trick. However, looking at Mad-Eye Moody, she had better stay clear from him, she did not have anything illegal by definition of the wizarding laws but extreme paranoia was hard to combat. 

What was strange was the mud-brown strands radiating off him. It seemed so familiar, like she had seen it before. From the way it moved, the source had to be a potion, the telltale fume-like twisting was a clear indication. She had seen enough brewing cauldrons to recognise the magic radiating off potions, but recognising the signatures of specific potions – or rather, anything in general – took time and practice, none that she gave to potions. There were too many different varieties to remember.

“As I was saying,” Dumbledore continued, “we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event which has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year.”

“You’re JOKING!” came a cry from the Gryffindor table and the Great Hall erupted in laughter.

“I am _not_ joking, Mr Weasley, though now you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag and a leprechaun who all go into a bar-“

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

“Er – but maybe this is not the time… no… Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament. Well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

The Triwizard Tournament is a friendly competition held between the magical schools of Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. It takes place once every five years, with each school taking turns to host. It was cancelled a long time ago due to the high death toll, but recently the Ministry has decided it is time for an attempt to rekindle the spirit of international friendships. As such, the tournament will commence when the impartial judge for the Triwizard Cup decides the participants during Halloween. Our esteemed guests from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons will arrived earlier in October. All of this with a grand prize of a thousand galleons, the participants will also be exempted from their exams due to the nature of the Tournament.”

Anya began to muse on the possibility of joining. Sure a thousand galleons was a tidy sum for a student’s competition, but exemption from exams was a much better prize. It would give her much more breathing room to catch up on her studies. Despite the assumption at her Transfiguration, Runes and Muggle Studies were in the bag, she still had to working on the theory portion of her OWLs. With concepts such as essay structures and answer schemes that was completely new to her, it was better to be safe than sorry. On top of that, it was reckless to rely solely on these three subjects.

“Despite the various safety measures implemented, both the schools and the Ministry has decided that to add in an age restriction for our main contenders, with only those of age being able to forward their names. As the tasks involved will still be dangerous, this is a necessary precaution.”

There was an instant uproar as soon as that statement left Dumbledore’s lips, especially those who were only a few months away from reaching the criteria. Shouts and banging of tables echoed throughout the Great Hall. Dumbledore simply rose his hands to call for silence.

“As disappointing as it sounds,” Dumbledore gently continued. “Do note that I mentioned an age restriction for our _main contenders_. Yes, the Ministry understands that by adding an age restriction, we have effectively stamped out an opportunity for the potential bright, young and capable minds whose sole shortcoming is their age. Therefore, a new feature has been added to this year’s Triwizard Tournament: The Junior Champion.”

This time, the shouts of outrage swung around to become shouts of jubilation and Dumbledore was forced to raise a hand for silence once more.

“For our younger students, do note that your role will be at times, vastly different for the actual Champions. You are less likely to be directly participating in the tasks, you will instead act as an assistant to the actual Champions, this will add on to fostering bonds through teamwork. There will be much more safety rules added for the Junior Champions and they are allowed to receive assistance from an authorised party, mainly the teachers. The thousand galleon prize does not split between the two Champions of the winning schools, you will both receive a thousand galleon each. Now that the big announcement is finish it is time for you to go to your common rooms, rest is important if one is to absorb the knowledge and wisdom taught in the classrooms. Bedtime! Chop chop!”

As Dumbledore finished his last sentence, the prefects of each house took charge, marshalling away the first-years to their common rooms. Being new to Hogwarts, Anya followed the crowd of first-years. Standing up, her gaze swept over the Great Hall and she found herself locking eyes with a boy across the hall who bore the same emerald eyes, dressed in black school robes with red Gryffindor trimmings. She shook herself off and proceeded to follow the first-years, but the boy never took his sight off her.

**XXXXX**

When the first-years came through the Great Hall, Harry merely regarded them with slight interest. Aside from noting the younger Creevey sibling covered in Hagrid's coat, he spent more of his attention chatting with his friends. However, when the last of the first-years trickled in, someone caught his attention.

His breath hitched in his throat and his pupils dilated in shock. At the back of the first-years stood a girl much higher than the rest of the new students, she clearly had to be older. His memory may have been a little fuzzy, but she was the spitting image of the girl she saw on the Mirror of Erised, albeit older. She had the same flowing raven hair, lithe figure and emerald eyes he had seen. However, the scar that should have been on her eye as Sirius said was missing. The attention he had on his conversation took a hard turn and locked itself firmly on the girl.

_There is no way._

_There is no way._

At some point his jaw had dropped, but he could not bring himself to care. Not when the girl at the doors of the Great Hall looked just like what Anne Potter should. The rational part of Harry's mind reminded him that she could not possibly be alive. After all, Hagrid had confirmed Anne's passing based on the words of Dumbledore himself. However, another part of his mind was hoping, pleading almost, that this pipe dream of his was true.

When the rest of the first-years finished their sorting and it was just the girl left, the buzzing of speculations had been in motion for a few minutes before Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and begun introducing the girl. Harry strained her ear to listen, clinging on to every word.

Anya Seryy. Transfer student from Russia. This had to be the reason why Anne never showed up in his first year, she was off in Russia, hopefully with an adoptive family much better than the Dursleys. She walked forward to the Sorting Hat and Harry already had his fingers crossed before the Sorting Hat even sat on her head.

_Please be Gryffindor. Please be Gryffindor. Please be Gryffindor._

After a few moments, the hat cried out, "SLYTHERIN!" and Harry felt his shoulders sag as he slumped on his seat. Anya took off the hat and move away from him to the table of green. For the rest of the meal, even through Dumbledore's start-of-year speech, he found his gut clenching and unclenching, a sense of numbness soaking through his bones. The joyful prospect of being able to be a Junior Champion which excited so many of those near him did not lift his mood up whatsoever.

As the prefects began leading the first-years to their common rooms, he saw the girl stand up and for a moment the two locked eyes. Staring into her eyes, Harry felt something click, as though the girl knew who she was meeting eyes with. The rest of his trip to the Gryffindor Tower became a blur as his mind struggled to make sense of what he saw. When he reached the common room, he found himself dragged to a corner of the room.

"Harry, stop. This is going to become an unhealthy obsession if you keep it up," said a familiar bushy haired friend, her arms crossed with a scowl on her face. "You were completely off the whole time at the Great Hall."

"Was it that obvious?" Harry mumbled, shuffling his feet nervously. "I mean do you even know why I-"

"Of course I do Harry," Hermione interrupted sternly, she held her gaze for a few moments before dropping her angry look into one of sympathy. "Harry, I understand that when Sirius told you about Anne you were immediately in grief. And I read that the first stage of grief is denial, but you shouldn't be going that far. I know you think, hope rather, that Ms Seryy is for some reason Anne. But you need to face facts, Sirius said it, Hagrid said it, she is not here anymore."

"You don't know that Hermione. Back in first-year, when I saw the Mirror of Erised, Seryy was exactly who I saw next to me, between my parents," Harry exclaimed. "And when she stood and looked at me, there was this... this... connection."

"Connection?" Hermione asked sceptically. "Didn't Sirius say something about her having her eye cut up by a dark curse, where's the scar if that girl is Anne?"

"She could have healed it," Harry replied hotly.

"Harry, I read up on cursed scars when you mentioned yours was hurting. And you can't remove scars left by wounds resulting from dark magic. You can heal the injury sure, but you can never remove the scars. That's probably why Professor Moody looks like that after a lifetime as an Auror, the curses used by all the dark wizards left a permanent mark on him. In that case, if Seryy is Anne, she should have been wearing a scar down her eye."

Hermione said all this quickly before finally letting out a sigh, "Harry, please. Let it go. It's not healthy."

Harry dropped his head low in defeat as his arms hung limply by his side. "I j-just hoped that m-maybe, just maybe-"

"I know, I understand," Hermione patted his shoulders comfortingly before turning to leave. "Just get some sleep alright? Classes start tomorrow and you shouldn't be late."


	5. Lessons Unlike Arkhangelsk. Reminders of Arkhangelsk.

Chapter 5 – Lessons Unlike Arkhangelsk. Reminders of Arkhangelsk.

Breakfast had just begun, students were piling into the Great Hall. Hermione was equally disgruntled and worried, her source of concern sat right across her. Clearly, her words yesterday had yet to break into her friend's head. Harry had a blank look on his face, staring intently at the entrance of the Great Hall. So focused was he that he failed to notice that he was spreading jam on his wrist rather than his toast.

When the green-eyed girl finally made it to the Great Hall, his eyes homed in on her and stayed there. Honestly, Hermione was not sure whether Harry or Seryy deserved more sympathy. One lost in grief while the other was going to have to deal with the former sooner or later.

"Harry, wake up," Hermione snapped her fingers. "Are you planning on eating your toast or your arm?"

"Huh," Harry mumbled, shaking out of his reverie. "Merlin, what a mess."

"Harry, get a grip," Hermione sighed, drawing out her wand and cleaning up the mess on Harry's wrist. "We've been through this. It's. Not. Her."

"You don't know that."

"Who's not who and don't know what," Ron said, halfway through his second helping of bacon.

"The new student in our year, Anya Seryy. For some reason, Harry is convinced that she happens to be his sister solely on the basis that she  _ looks like her _ ."

"Wha-" the ginger sputtered. "Come on Harry, it can't be. She's dead, died years ago and- ow! Hermione, what the hell?"

"Show some sensitivity Ron," Hermione admonished. "You don't talk about the dead like that in front of their family."

"Fine, fine," Ron said hastily. "Besides, house sorting runs in family doesn't it? My entire family is Gryffindor and the Malfoy gits have always been in Slytherin. If she was a Potter wouldn't she be in Gryffindor with us?"

"Some break the trend," Harry grumbled. "Look at Sirius, isn't House Black all Slytherin? Works the other way around don't you think."

Ron stopped to think while Hermione stood up and made for the doors, dragging the two along. "Come on, let's go. First lesson is Transfiguration and we do not want to be late for Professor McGonagall's class."

Both boys made groans of protest as they followed the girl out to their classroom, but not before Harry stole another glace at the Slytherin table.

"And Harry, I don't want to see you jumping up on her at the corridors, you hear me?"

Her reply was another groan, before she finally had the two boys shoved out of the Great Hall.

**XXXXX**

_ "Anya!" a voice hollered from downstairs. "Get down here, bring your wand too." _

__

_ A giggle erupted beside her and the girl next to her snatched the remote control from her hand. "Well, what are you waiting for? Aleks called you, get going, it's been a while since I got the TV to myself." _

__

_ "Ass," muttered Anya, draining the last of her Invigoration Draught. She tossed the empty vial at the girl. "Tanya, hide this. If Aleks sees it, he'll go ballistic." _

__

_ "At you, not at me," the girl chirped in a singsong tone as she started at the television, but pocketing the vial nonetheless. "Not just Aleksandr, but any of the adults really." _

__

_ A walk down the stairs and to one of the 'prep' room revealed an irate Aleks, drumming his fingers on a table. Beside him was a young boy a year older than Anya, Kiel. He had the stereotypical blonde hair, blue eyed German look. He probably was German, given that Nathaniel's uncle found him in the German city which became his namesake. How Nathaniel's uncle knew their ages was always a wonder to Anya. He could always gauge the exact age of everyone he saw, though not precise to the birthday. In fact, that old man had always been an enigma, no one but Nathaniel knew his name. Everyone just called him Grey, or Seryy as it is called in Russian. _

__

_ "Took your time," Aleks growled, gesturing to a stack of equipment on the table. "Nathaniel is conducting magic training, Dimitri and Wei Jen are already there." _

__

_ "Where's the training?" Anya asked _

__

_ Aleks promptly gave her a local map, a compass and a slip of paper containing the coordinates. "Remember, everything on the table goes along with the both of you." _

__

_ Years ago, she would have sighed and grumbled. Now, there was just a grim nod as she followed Kiel, picking up the items on the table. First was a lightweight ballistic vest, which they slipped over their shirts. Over that went the various layers of winter clothing. A bulky bag of supplies – not that they needed them – went over their shoulders. Finally, they both picked up an AK-47 each, doing a standard inspection before slapping on a magazine. _

__

_ "Remember, don't get caught," Aleks reminded them. "I got sick of Oblivating the Muggles whenever Tanya gets caught." _

__

_ "Maybe we should have dragged her along," Kiel said softly with a fond smile. "Would be nice to have some pleasant company." _

__

_ "Also," Aleks continued, "no Featherweight Charms, I'm looking at you Anya, we don't need a creepy eye to figure out what spells you cast to cheat. And...... since the roads get more empty further up North, Vlad may or may not have hexed portions of the roads there. I wouldn't rely on following roads if I were the two of you." _

__

_ The pair drew their wands and cast Disillusionment Charms and Notice-Me-Not Charms over themselves. A quick check on each other's wandwork and the two left the building. _

__

_ "Can you see the hexes if they show up?" Kiel asked. _

__

_ "Not yet," Anya shook her head. "I only finished up on properly seeing, knowing, identifying and deciphering ward systems. Nathaniel haven't gotten me to start on booby traps yet." _

__

_ "Fine, we do this the normal way." _

__

_ A Russian January was always cold despite being noon and the pair were glad that it was not snowing today. Disillusionment Charms would not stop the snow from silhouetting their figures. They weaved through the alleyways and into the woods up North, avoiding Muggles and possible wizards. _

__

_ They never ever used their rifles in these trips. Rather, it was a way to force them to learn evasion and concealment, should their charms fail, they had to rely on avoiding the general public. Lest the Muggle police would come bearing down on the children who have firearms slung over them. It also served as an excellent form of dead weight. _

__

_ Three miles in, and Anya could acutely feel the gnawing on her legs as both cold and fatigue clawed on skin, muscle and bone. She had done this before, albeit with increasing distance each time, but it never got easier. Ragged breaths wheezed out in foggy condensation as she trudged through the thick blanket of snow. _

__

Breathe in. Breathe out. Left leg. Right leg.

Next checkpoint is just another hundred meters before adjusting compass bearing to zero-five-zero to reach the destination.

Come on, pain is good. It says that you are still alive.

__

_ A misstep on a patch of sleet and she slipped, she would have fell but a strong arm held her steady. Suddenly, her rifle was yanked out of her already unsteady grip. Pushing her messy locks of hair from her eyes, she glanced right and saw Kiel slinging her rifle over his shoulder. There was a brief moment of hesitation before both of them nodded at each other and fought on against the harsh cold. _

__

_ It took another hour of trekking through the woods before the pair ended up at an abandoned warehouse near the Northern Dvina River. Nathaniel stood in front of Dimitri and Wei Jen, wand in hand. Before them laid several dead chickens, a dead pig and a dead monkey. Anya and Kiel cancelled their concealment charms, dropped their bags and ended up on their knees, panting from exhaustion. _

__

_ "Kiel, Anya.  _ Dobro pozhalovat' _ ," said Nathaniel with a curt nod, checking his watch. "Good timing,  _ tak derzhat' _." _

__

_ "For today's lesson, we will be learning the concealment and disposal of corpses. Transfiguration will be extensively used. Now to begin, we start with Fayette's Applied Principles of Transfiguration on Animal Anatomy-" _

"-these will serve as the primary basis for many of our animal-based transfigurations for this and the coming years. For those of you who wish to progress to my NEWT classes, do remember these principles well for they can and will be applied to human transfiguration studied in NEWTs. Now, turn to page fifty-four of your copies of  _ Intermediate Transfiguration _ and-"

The scratching of quill on parchment joined the voice of Professor McGonagall as the Transfiguration lesson went in full swing. Anya had her textbook propped up against her bag as she lazily jotted down notes. Having been through this before, she would rather spend her time catching up on other subjects. Despite requiring only three OWLs, ignoring other subjects will still end in detentions or remedial classes, both she hoped to avoid.

"Today, we will start with learning the transformation of animals into inanimate objects of a different volume," said Professor McGonagall, conjuring cages of guinea pigs in front of the students. "Start with transfiguring the guinea pigs provided into teacups. Do note that unlike your previous years, a difference in volume between entities transfigured will result in a higher demand in concentration."

Soon, the class was filled with shouts of incantation and wand movement. A swish and a flick of her wand and Anya had her guinea pig turn into a teacup.

"Ten points to Slytherin Ms Seryy."

"How did you do that?" asked Tracey Davis – a fellow Slytherin forth-year beside her – irritably.

Anya looked at her curiously and at the envious Ravenclaws behind shooting her furtive glances.

"Practice," Anya replied. "Never mind that, show me how you do it."

Davis obliged, only to have Anya grab her arm halfway through.

"Your wand movement is off, try locking your wrist for the first part and relaxing for the second part."

Davis narrowed her eyes in scepticism, but followed through nonetheless. To her delight, the spell got through, though the teacup was still covered in a layer of grey fur.

"Remind me that, for all its shortcomings, never to underestimate Russia's Wizarding education," Blaise Zabini grinned. He sat behind the pair of girls, both he and Theodore Nott had an incomplete but satisfactory teacup in front of them, credit to Anya's advice and their eavesdropping skills.

"They taught you this in Russia?" Davis inquired. "Don't they have to be a little one-on-one to pick out specific wand movement errors?"

"Yes," replied Anya, allowing a slight fond smile to form on her lips. The class was starting to be a drag to her, she missed her lessons back at Arkhangelsk. They were tough, but she always found them refreshing. There was something about learning in and from the open world, be it on the streets or in the woods, and learning with a tightly knit group. Here the stuffy confines of the classroom and the all too large – in her opinion – student to teacher ratio was starting to get on her nerves.

Class soon came to an end and the mass of Slytherins and Ravenclaws trickled out of class. The next lesson was Potions. Anya grimaced, potions was not going to be enjoyable. The lessons were passable despite hardly having any practice in Potions, but the pain in those lessons were mostly due to the Gryffindors sharing the same period. Or rather, a certain Gryffindor sharing the same period.

During the end start-of-term banquet, she had swept through the Great Hall, looking for her supposed brother. Even though they never met, shared no joy, grief or anger and were only siblings because of blood and nothing else, there was always a deep yearning of finding out who you were. Her brothers and sisters in Arkhangelsk had already become her family that she was proud of, but when presented with a link to the past of who she was supposed to be, her curiosity refused to skip that opportunity.

It was not difficult to spot him. Throughout the whole banquet, she could feel a persistent presence bearing down on her, the subtle sensation of being watched. She simply sought out the source and found Harry Potter staring at her from the Gryffindor table. For a brief moment she taught that Harry already knew who she was, which presented an issue of keeping her identity hidden. However, one glance at the forlorn yet hopeful look on her brother’s face and she came to the conclusion that Harry merely suspected her of being his long-lost sister. She was safe for now, but a persistent person who acted on suspicions was a huge annoyance, one she will have to bear whenever she meets Harry. How he knew of her was another question, she suspected her parents’ friends had filled him in.

In this case, Potions. She was very grateful that the only lessons she would sharing with Harry was Potions and Defence, but to her it was two too many. To top it off, there were both back-to-back, with only lunch acting as a respite.

Taking a deep breath, she set off with her fellow Slytherins into the dungeons. The Gryffindors had already taken their seats by the time she reached the class, she had easily figured out early on how biased her Head-of-House, Professor Snape, can be when it comes to punctuality. One step was as far as she got before she felt that familiar sensation of being watched once again. She took a cursory glance at the Gryffindors and managed to pick up Harry staring at her.

With an emotionless mask, she settled down with the rest of the Slytherins and the lesson commenced. Luckily, the presence of Gryffindors in Snape’s class means that the attention of their Potions Master was mostly focused on harassing them, the Slytherins simply needed to only sit back and enjoy the show. The highlight of said show involved a Neville Longbottom melting his cauldron in what can only be attributed to a series of glaring errors in his potion making. Snape simply vanished the mess, deducted twenty points from Gryffindor for ‘clumsiness’ and gave the poor Gryffindor a detention.

As Snape made a rare round through the Slytherin portion of the dungeons, Anya found her own cauldron being inspected by Snape. Being a newly transferred student, Anya was expecting more scrutiny from the various teachers and she was right. It was at times annoying when there was a teacher constantly breathing down her neck, especially for Herbology when the Hufflepuff nature in Professor Sprout demanded extra care and attention for a student new to the Hogwarts curriculum. Snape peered down at her cauldron’s contents for a few seconds before moving on without a comment.

_ Passable, I guess. _

The ringing of the bell was a relief to what Anya considered as a mild agony. She and the rest of the class began packing up their bags, looking forward to lunch. Making her way down the corridor, someone called out to her.

“Seryy. Wait up!”

She turned around to find herself facing Harry, his usual retinue missing. His jaw was firmly locked, but his eyes were screaming out his intentions. This was the huge annoyance Anya had hope to come into as little contact as possible. It took a few moments before Harry’s jaw finally came loose.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Harry stammered. “I just wanted to say ‘Welcome to Hogwarts’… and Britain too I guess. I’m Harry Potter.”

He held out his hand and Anya took it, giving a polite shake before letting go.

“So I’ve heard,” Anya said smoothly. “Anya Seryy, but you already know that. Will that be all? I need to go for lunch.”

“Yes… no, I mean…” Harry struggled to find his words, trying to not make his intention blatantly obvious should his suspicions end up wrong. “You look very familiar. Have I seen you somewhere before?”

“Not unless you’ve been to Russia, no I don’t think so.”

“You’ve never been to Britain before transferring here?”

“As far as I can recall, no.”

“Not even as a kid, maybe when you were a baby?”

Anya internally sighed, he was getting nearer and nearer to being mentally painful.

“No,” she said firmly. “And I’m pretty sure that as a baby, I will have no recollection whatsoever and neither will you. Additionally, I’m also sure that seeing me as a baby and comparing it to my current appearance should not be triggering any sense of ‘looking familiar’.”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry finished lamely before awkwardly gesturing to her. “How about we both make way to the Great Hall, yeah?”

Finding no polite way out and not wanting to be rude, Anya settled for a curt nod and letting her brother lead the way. She kept her distance though, not wanting to let Harry get comfortable in her presence lest he start seeking her out more.

“So… how has it been in Hogwarts so far?”

“Fine.”

“Do you have any problems transitioning here from Russia?”

“Curriculum is a little different and there are many new faces. Other than that, not much problem.”

“Do you realise we kind of look alike, the same hair and eye colour, facial features too actually.”

_ Smooth going. _

“Apparently so.”

“Do you have any siblings back there in Russia?”

_ Even smoother. _

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Harry said in surprised, snapping his head to stare at Anya, who was meeting his stare in challenge.

“Yes, I have. Is there any problem with that?”

“No… nothing really, just that I never had siblings,” Harry mumbled in a fluster. “My family back home is pretty lame too, live with my aunt and uncle. How is your family back in Russia?”

“Rowdy, exciting and something I’m proud of.”

“Why’d you come over here to Hogwarts anyway?”

This stumped Anya. How does one get off citing family reasons to a direct family member who suspects you of being family? Anya was quite sure using that line of reasoning was going to cause Harry to jump to many uncomfortably accurate conclusions with the suspicions he was acting under. When they neared the Great Hall, rescue came in the form of Hermione and Astoria.

“Harry!”

“Anya!”

Both girls rushed forward, before stopping and looking at one other suspiciously. Then, they looked at the two green-eyed fourth-years with equal suspicion.

“What are the two of you doing together?” Astoria asked, always keen on having speaking priority.

“Potter here offered to walk me to the Great Hall in order to ease me into life at Hogwarts.”

“Merlin, I am so sorry if he spoke or acted inappropriately,” Hermione burst out, speaking frantically. “He didn’t disturb you in any way right?”

If there was ever an opportunity to reign in Harry, this was one, and Anya was not going to hesitate.

“Well, he did ask me question after question along the lines of looking alike and my family back in Russia.”

Hermione looked aghast as she promptly dragged Harry off into the Great Hall furiously whispering to him, “What did I tell you not to do? What did I tell you not to do?”

“Lunch?” Astoria said innocently.

“Lunch,” Anya agreed, following the second-year girl to the Slytherin table. She had only just taken a seat when she was approached by an irate Malfoy.

“Seryy, what were you doing? Hanging around with the prat Potter.”

“Maybe our dear Russian friend here has a crush on the Golden Gryffindor Boy,” teased Parkinson with a false giggle.

“Relax, Malfoy,” Anya replied calmly. “Potter simply wanted to walk me to the Great Hall and there was no point in being unnecessarily rude to him.”

“Unnecessarily rude?” Malfoy replied hotly. “He is an arrogant airhead and we Slytherins should not be associating with him, kick him off the next time he comes over.”

“Unless,” Malfoy narrowed his eyes, “you’re a Muggle lover like him too. I’ve seen you walking around with all those Muggle items, jotting down notes with- what’s that thing? A fen?”

“Pen,” Anya corrected lazily. “You try taking down notes with ink and quill as a left-hander. When you smudge your notes enough times, you find using a ballpoint pen a lot more practical.”

Her insistent usage of various Muggle items has been the source of many arguments with her housemates, mainly hardliners such as Malfoy. It started off with taking down notes with pen and paper instead of quill and parchment – although homework still had to be submitted in the later form. Then it progressed to wearing her digital watch, which hid the runic script on her wrist. The watch surprisingly still worked within the thick magical environment of Hogwarts, though she was forced to recalibrate it every day as its precision was greatly hampered. The icing on the cake had been her use of a torchlight one time in her dorms during midnight to get to the bathroom, which ended in Parkinson screaming, “What do you even have a wand for!?”

At least they did not see the Muggle items Anya usually had hidden in her robes. Her pistol, Swiss knife and switchblade. She could only imagine the aneurysm Malfoy would have if he ever saw them, and the epileptic fit he would have should he figure out what they were for.

However, she forwent her hidden items for today, and planned to do so for the days she would have her Defence classes. She had seen the magical eye Moody possessed and planned to take the safe route. She stilled carried them on other days, understanding the difference between what one can see and what one can notice, if she kept away from him and into the crowds, she was safe. She felt a little naked without the safety of her the weapons she used more than her wand, but it was better than risking herself getting caught by an Auror. She was not sure of the knowledge British Aurors had on firearms and concealed Muggle weapons, but she was not taking chances.

The only risk left was the runic scripts etched on her body. Granted, the scripts were small and inconspicuous, but there was always a chance that the ex-Auror might start asking questions.

“Whatever,” Malfoy snorted, turning to leave. “Just make sure you keep your sense of propriety when around us.”

“What an ass,” snickered Zabini from across the table. “Start eating already Seryy, or the good seats for Defence will be all taken up.”

Indeed, with the stories told by students from other years and houses, Moody’s classes have been painted as an eye-opener, prompting students who have yet to the class eager to attend. This is case, the Slytherins and Gryffindors were wolfing down their lunch at top seat to get priority seating in the classroom.

“I suspect certain levels of exaggeration concerning Defence classes,” Anya replied evenly, in a short few days at Hogwarts she had managed to build a sense of camaraderie with the dark-skinned Slytherin. Their shared foreign background – Zabini had emigrated from Italy to Britain at the age of eight – providing a base for developing rapport. “What’s the deal with Malfoy anyway, Pureblood houses – or what’s left of them – back in Russia aren’t that Muggle-phobic. Heck, you aren’t like that even with your utter disdain for ‘filthy blood’ and your childhood friendship with him.”

“That’s Russia for you Seryy. And unlike Malfoy, the lack of a father figure in my life has blessed me with the clarity to understand the difference between Muggles and their inventions. One should be kept out of our society while the other is something to be made used of. It’s similar to goblins and gold, you can hate the short buggers but you can’t help loving the Galleons they mint.”

Anya chuckled at that as she ate. Despite the outward frostiness, Zabini can be amiable once you get past the initial reclusiveness.

“And in the case of Muggles,” Zabini continued, “they may be second-class humans but their facial products are exceptionally brilliant at doing their job.”

Anya’s chuckles turned into a full-blown snigger. She realised as she got acquainted with Zabini that he was very vain about his appearance and it amused her to no end.”

“They are?” Astoria chimed in.

“Their moisturisers last way longer than any wizarding products, I’ll give them that,” Zabini said finishing the last scraps of his food. “Come on Seryy, let’s go hunt Nott down. I want to smoke a fag and I left mine in the dorms. Unless you have yours with you?”

Fags had in fact been the cause for Anya to get along with Zabini – and Nott. The second day in Hogwarts had her bump into the two in a deserted corridor, Nott had been the one smoking while Zabini had been asking him to spare a stick. Living and working with Dimitri back home had ingrained Anya with the habit of bringing along a spare packet of cigarettes, a nicotine-free Dimitri was a grumpy Dimitri. She never used the packet she carried though, they were solely for Dimitri should he ever run out and she refused to deal with a grumpy Dimitri. He had her try one out back when she was nine, it ended poorly with fits of coughing.

Seeing Zabini’s plight, she simply spared a stick from her packet and conversation between the three struck up right then and there. Anya had been surprised that the two Purebloods were delving into smoking cigarettes, which was firmly labelled a Muggle habit by Pureblood houses. Apparently, the prim and proper Pureblood source of tobacco was from snuffboxes. Conversation initially started with said surprise and she found out that having being mostly left on their own, Zabini with no father and a mother who frequented tea parties and Nott with no mother and a father who spent more time on ‘Death Eater’ business, the two had wandered into Muggle Britain multiple times, picking up smoking from there.

The two still retained the conservative Pureblood views on Muggles but developed a grudging respect and tolerance for their inventions with each time they strayed into the Muggle world. Their parents had frequently sent them over to the Malfoys to bond with the other Pureblood children, but their lack of parents to look up to and changing views on Muggles created a rift between them and most of the other children, a rift that only grew with time. Zabini thanked Anya for the cigarette and there was an unspoken agreement that she was allowed to join the two loners of Slytherin.

“Nope, didn’t bring any contrabands with me. Not when the next class has an ex-Auror teaching it,” Anya shrugged. “Nott shouldn’t be too difficult to find, find the older Greengrass and you’ll find Nott. Astoria, where’s your sister?”

“She left for Defence with Nott already,” the second-year replied, still eating her lunch.

“Bloody damn shame,” Zabini muttered, picking up his bag. “Well, no choice then, off to class.”

The two made their way over to Defence class and when they entered, Anya was glad to see that Harry’s attention was on the class and not on her. The class heard rather than saw Moody enter the classroom, the clunking of his wooden leg giving him away.

“You can put those way, those books, we wouldn’t be needing them.”

The buzz of excitement rose even higher upon those words, except for Malfoy who shrunk further back into the corner of the class, clearly traumatised by the ferret incident that took place days ago. Moody took no heed, simply drawing out a class register to take the attendance. Anya was a little excited too, she couldn’t deny that. It was not every day one got to learn magical combat straight from an ex-Auror, especially when said ex-Auror got to the topic of highly illegal curses within a minute into class.

“So… do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?”

Several hands rose into the air and Moody picked out a ginger Gryffindor, Ron Weasley.

“Er, my dad told me about one… is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?”

“Ah, yes,” said Moody appreciatively. “Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse.”

Moody took out a glass jar containing three large, black spiders. He fished one out and pointed his wand at it, muttering “ _ Imperio _ .”

The spider swung into action, performing cartwheels and dances on Moody’s palm, much to the laughter of the whole class except from Moody himself and Anya.

“Think it’s funny, do you?” Moody growled. “You’d like it, would you, if I did it to you?”

The laughter died away almost immediately and Anya grimaced slightly, past memories of a Chinese human trafficking ring coming to her mind as Moody continued his lesson. The hazy, blank look on a gaunt, ragged Chinese boy her age that would later grow up to be a person she trusted her life with multiple times.

“CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” Moody sharp voice brought her back to the present.

“Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?”

This time Neville’s hand came up. Anya was surprised, her short contact with him in Potions had her pegging him as a docile boy filled with innocence.

“Yes?”

“There’s one – the Cruciatus Curse,” said Neville, in a small but distinct voice.

“Your name’s Longbottom?” Moody asked, checking the class register.

Neville nodded nervously but Moody made no comments, fishing out the second spider instead.

“The Cruciatus Curse, needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea,” said Moody, enlarging the spider with quick spell before pointing his wand firmly on the spider. “ _ Crucio. _ ”

At once, the spider jerked up, rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. Anya was glad Nathaniel spent a great deal of time slowly desensitising her and others to torture and death. Slowly from television shows, to an actual dead body. To the process of a quick, clean death, to a slow death. An even slower death. Messier. Slower. Finally, torture. They each found their own way to cope. This display would not have held a candle to that night in Vladivostok.

The shrill voice of a panicked Hermione caused Moody to cut the spell, shrinking the spider back and placing it into the jar.

“Pain, you don’t need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse… that one was very popular once, too.”

“Right… anyone know any others?”

This time, it was Hermione who got the honour to answer.

“Yes?”

“ _ Avada Kedavra _ ,” she whispered.

“Ah. Yes, the last and the worst.  _ Avada Kedavra _ … the Killing Curse.”

The rest of Moody’s demonstration was a blur to Anya as her eyes glazed over, lost once more in memories. This time she was in the waning days of 1989, Romania. Gunfire and green jets of light building up a cacophony and showcase of brutal violence, death in a vain attempt to preserve what was already dying.

_ Stare. Stare in the eyes. Stare in the eyes of the dead until they can no longer haunt you. Do not ignore. Do not back down. Stare death, pain, and gore in the eye until they are but motions in life. Remember and recall so you can always know it. Know it well so you do not fear it. Humans will fear what they do not know. _

Her personal mantra kept repeating in her mind over and over as she successfully fought to breathe calmly, turning her attention back to the lesson.

“Not nice. Not pleasant. And there’s no counter-curse. There’s no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he’s sitting right in front of me.”

All attention in the class now turned on Harry Potter, including Anya. Her brother was a curiosity, she cannot deny that, to take a Killing Curse only to survive and somehow vanquish Voldemort, nobody has ever done that. Nathaniel’s uncle, Grey, would have paid a fortune to have Harry in his hands for a good long run of experimentation.

Curiosity soon turned to herself, why did she live? She came out from the ordeal with only a missing eyes, a problem that had been fixed. Why was her right eye, and not her life, that was the target of Voldemort? Killing her off would have been much simpler. There probably was another factor at hand, one she was pretty sure of being stupidly simple, just that she was unable to pick it out.

Not that it mattered anymore, Voldemort was dead and the essay on curses that Moody had given the class was a far greater threat to her wellbeing. The class packed up their bags and left the room and instantly descended into a waved of awestruck conversations, the first lesson from Moody had certainly cemented an impression on them.

Days went by as Anya slowly found her pace in Hogwarts. True to her predication, Transfiguration, Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies were a breeze for her, with Professor Babbling and Professor Burbage saying that she was a joy to teach. Professor McGonagall even started to show her favour despite the green trimmings on her school robe. Charms, Potions and Herbology had been alright, she neither flunked nor excelled at those. History of Magic and Astronomy had been long given up as a lost cause.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was a solid so-so, she knew a few Defence spells such as the Knockback Jinx and Stunning Spell, but her comparative lack of contact and study with dark creature and dark magic meant that she was woefully unfamiliar with the counter-curses required in the coursework. At least for Herbology and Potions, she came across enough illegal shipments to familiarise herself with the various plants, ingredients and potions.

A surprise came when Professor Moody announced that he would be putting the class under the Imperius Curse to demonstrate its power and effect, much to the protest of a few students. In the end, the fear of Moody outweighed the fear of the Imperius Curse and each students took their turn being placed under the curse.

Each student had their turn being ridiculed in front of the class, starting from the Gryffindors to the Slytherins. Nearly all Gryffindors succumbed to the curse, with Harry being the sole exception. His first attempt at throwing off the curse resulted in a pair of fractured kneecaps as his body couldn’t decide between following the curse and following Harry, causing him to smash into a desk and toppling onto the floor knee-first. Moody had him try again and again until he could successfully throw off the curse completely, summing up to four tries.

Finally, Moody turned to the Slytherins. The elated and nervous mood between the two houses swung polar opposite as he did so.

“Alright, now it’s time for the Slytherins,” Moody growled, his magical eye darting about each Death Eater children. “Hopefully some of your parents taught you how to fight the curse instead of how to cast it.”

One by one, the Slytherin had their own turn with the Imperius Curse. Gryffindor laughter climaxed at Malfoy's turn, who performed an admirable impression of a ferret, Moody clearly had his wicked sense of humour.

"Seryy, your turn," Moody barked, beckoning forth the girl.

Anya walked forward, once again painfully aware of the green eyes staring at her. She took a deep breath, preparing to fight against the reflex that Nathaniel had conditioned her with should she ever come in contact with the Imperius Curse or Legilimency. If she followed through, it would undoubtedly make a scene she would rather avoid. As Moody levelled the wand at her, she released her breath, clenching her right hand in an attempt to keep it from moving.

" _ Imperio _ ."

The moment she heard that word and felt the empty, blissful sensation take over, her attempt immediately became in vain. Her reflex clawed through her resistance and her arm seemed to move on its own, bringing her right hand up to her mouth. In one swift lunging motion she bit hard on her hand, drawing blood from the bite as teeth sank into flesh. The pain and adrenaline combined with her push of protesting willpower threw the curse off instantly, it was a cheap trick to combat mind magic and Nathaniel had ruthlessly drilled her on it.

She collapsed on all fours from the exertion and before she realised it, her wand was in her left hand, pointing straight at Moody. Her breath surged in and out jerkily through gritted teeth and she was feeling light-headed from the raging blood flow, the adrenaline had already clouded her mind.

Anya reckoned that she looked like a mess, poised like a cornered animal with blood on her hand and mouth. Judging from the shocked expression on her classmates, she was probably right. She withdrew her wand and staggered up to her feet, trying in put on an air of nonchalance, which did nothing to soothe the stunned silence.

"What the hell was that!?" Dean Thomas finally cried from the seats.

"That, Thomas, was an impressive display," Moody growled in approval. "Three seconds to throw the curse off and you had your wand out for defence in an instant, ten points to Slytherin Seryy. I would have given you more if you hadn't resorted to biting yourself. Now look here class, Seryy here has got the same mental willpower as Potter, and you lot should be learning to draw your wands as quick as her."

Anya walked back to the seat, with all eyes on her. A few taps of her wand had her blood cleaned up and the bite healed.

"Seryy, what in Merlin's name was that?" Zabini asked, his eyes wide in awe.

"That is something I'd rather not talk about."

**XXXXX**

"Seryy, your turn."

Harry's head swivelled over to the girl he suspected of being Anne. He watched as Moody placed her under the Imperius Curse. To his absolute shock, she did the last thing he would have expected.

The girl bit her own hand.

His jaw dropped wide open and he heard Hermione gasp beside him. Anya looked positively feral with the tense posture and blood on her mouth. As she recovered, Moody gave her ten points and a rare compliment. However, all Harry picked up was another shred of hope from Moody's words.

_ Seryy here has got the same mental willpower as Potter. _

There it was, another link. Another connection he so desperately sought out between him and Anya.

"How on Earth did she do that," Hermione voiced out as they left the classroom. "She just bites her own hand and throws off the curse. In all the books I've read, none mentioned biting your own hand to combat the Imperius Curse."

"Worked though dinnit?" Ron said dazedly, still awestruck by Anya's performance. "You can't learn everything from books."

"Well, as Professor Moody said," Harry said apprehensively. "She had the same mental willpower as me. So you know... She may-"

Hermione's eyes widen as she realised where Harry was going with the conversation.

"Oh no you don't," she cut in sharply. "That does not prove that Seryy is Anne Potter. What kind of a leap in logic is that?"

"Come on Hermione," Harry fought back hotly. "She looks like the girl in the Mirror of Erised, we share a good deal of facial features and we share the same mental willpower. Ron, what do you think?"

"I dunno," Ron said uncertainly. "You may have a point, but it could be coincidence."

"You think Veritaserum would let us know?" Harry theorised. "Or maybe a DNA test, is there a magical alternative to that?"

"Coincidence," Hermione pressed exasperatedly. "That's all there is too it."

However, Harry had a plan. One he was sure of, a guaranteed foolproof solution.


	6. Confrontation

Chapter 6 – Confrontation

"Well, it's a Sunday. What are your plans for the day?" Astoria asked, spreading butter on her toast.

"No plans, pass the salt," Anya replied, to which Astoria obliged. "I'll probably end up in the library studying."

"How about we go for a walk around the Hogwarts grounds," Astoria suggested brightly. "You never wandered out of the castle aside from Herbology, and that's just a fraction of the outdoors Hogwarts has to offer. It's quite relaxing to just take a stroll."

"I don't see why not," Anya shrugged, not denying the relaxing effects of a mindless stroll, having done the same back in the streets of Arkhangelsk.

Soon the two girls found themselves strolling near Hagrid's hut, Astoria recounting her elder sister's run-in with the infamous Blast-Ended Skrewts. The tale ended with a few minutes of tentative silence until Anya broke it.

"Alright Astoria, how about you get straight to the objective of this entire jaunt," Anya said casually. "You have a burning question that you're just dying to ask about without any outside interference."

"How?" Astoria stopped dead in her tracks, a slight crack in her upbeat facade as her eyes widened in shock at getting called out.

"The little things, there's that slight hesitation before every question you ask. As though you wanted to ask something else, but never found the opening to do so. So what did you want ask me?"

"What's the weapon you keep in your robes that you favour over your wand," Astoria asked with equal shrewdness and curiosity, grinning in expectation.

Anya was completed shocked, stumped and surprised. This was definitely not on the list of things she expected. Moody calling her out for her pistol, sure. Astoria, no way. However, all she showed the younger girl was a graceful arch of her eyebrow.

"What!? How!?" Astoria demanded, her grin completely wiped clean off her face. "You can call me out over the slightest things. But when I do so, you don't even stumble. I can't even get a good read on you, and that just doesn't happen, I can even figure out Daphne at times but you..."

"Let's just chalk it up to experience," Anya smiled gently, shifting slightly to deny the girl vision of her wand holster as her hand surreptitiously wrapped her wand. "Now how about you tell me how you figured it out?"

"It's simple really," Astoria said proudly. "The first time I saw you on the Hogwarts Express, your right hand jumped straight into your jacket when my sister barged in. At first, I – like my sister – assumed it was your wand you were reaching for, but then I realised you were left-handed based on your preference for it when taking textbooks from your trunk. Which means that what you immediately went for back then was a weapon other than your wand as you would have used your left hand had it been your wand. Judging by how instinctive your movements were, you were more comfortable with it than your wand. Since you feel more comfortable with it than your wand, I can assume you keep it with you at all times, even now."

Anya could feel her gentle smile fighting to tug itself wider. The second-year in front of her was observant, very observant, and she had the sharp wit to correctly work out what she saw. Anya could not help respecting Astoria, she picked out her concealed weapon within the first day of meeting each other, this girl was not lying when she said she was a 'true Slytherin' back at the start-of-term banquet.

"Ten points to Slytherin, Ms Greengrass," Anya jokingly said, nodding her head in confirmation and further tightening her grip on her wand.

"Well, well, what is it?" Astoria burst out, her countenance switching from shrewdness to excitement in a heartbeat, eyes lighting up in a happy twinkle. "Is it some kind of special magical focus? Something simple like a knife? Something from Russia?"

Anya stared hard at Astoria for a solid minute, regarding the girl's expression, posture and every single possible detail. The younger Slytherin's excitement had only started to fade before Anya relaxed the grip on her wand. At the least the some of the girl's childlike innocence was genuine, and Anya did not peg her as one to spill secrets.

"If I show you, not one word of it will reach anyone else's ears, understood?"

"Crystal clear."

Anya looked around her surrounding ensure there was no one else around, refraining from shutting her left eye as she did so, there was no point giving Astoria more secrets. Once she was sure of their isolation, she simply drew out her pistol from a concealed holster within her robes and showed it to Astoria.

Whatever Astoria had been expecting, this was not it.

"What is that?" Astoria inquired in wonderment.

" _ Pistolet Makarova _ ," Anya answered. "It is a firearm, a common type of Muggle weapon."

"Muggle weapon?" Astoria repeated, doubt and a hint of disgust creeping in her voice. "I thought Muggles just used their fists or maybe swords and bow. What in Merlin's name is a firearm?"

"Swords and bow?" Anya laughed in disbelief. "That was centuries ago, at least say they use muskets and I can still forgive you. You ought to take Muggle Studies as an elective for next year."

Astoria pouted at that, crossing her arms in annoyance.

"A firearm, or a gun, is-"

"Oh! A gun," Astoria exclaimed in realisation. "I saw it mentioned in the Daily Prophet when Sirius Black escaped last year. The Muggles were told that he was armed with a gun, 'a metal wand Muggles use to duel'. That's what a gun is right? How do Muggles even use a wand? And metal? Aren't they less magically sensitive than wood?"

"Simple, because a gun is not a wand of any kind, it doesn't use magic."

"Then how is it dangerous if it doesn't use magic, it doesn't look dangerous at all."

"If wizards here in Britain actually knew how dangerous and widespread these are in the Muggle world, I'm pretty sure the hard-line Purebloods of the Wizengamot can rally more support for their anti-Muggle bills."

"Are they really that dangerous that you would choose a Muggle weapon over a wand," Astoria said in disbelief, sticking her nose up in the air. "I mean, sure, Zabini said some Muggle inventions are better than their wizard counterparts, but for weaponry? There's no way wizards are inferior in that department."

Anya spoke no words, she simply took action. She levelled her pistol against a nearby tree and emptied the clip in rapid succession. Aiming at the base of the branches on the tree, the bullet ripped through a branch each. The spin from the bullets violently severing the branches whole from the tree. Eight soft thumps of her pistol. Eight branches dropped on the ground, their fall almost synchronised.

Astoria simply stared in shock, her mouth silently jabbering. She had seen curses that could produce flashier results, but not at the discreetness and speed this Muggle weapon - gun - was able to create. There was only a little bit of sound, no bright jets of light, it would be hardly noticeable to any opponent. The 'spell' or whatever it was, seemed to instantly hit its target the moment the weapon came into action, there was no dodging this unlike some curses. And rate at which it delivered its effect was what shocked Astoria the most. Four seconds to sever eight branches at fifty feet, even skilled duellists struggled to cast spells accurately at that rate from such a distance.

Sure, there were curses that could do a better job, but none so subtly swift. She had to admit, Zabini had a point on Muggles and their inventions. You can look at them with disdain, that was what she was taught from cradle, but you had better respect what they can come up with. She now understood why Anya reflexively favoured this over her wand when threatened.

"Oh..." Astoria mumbled.

"Oh indeed," Anya loaded in a fresh magazine before stowing it back into her robes. Granted, her body, pistol and bullets had been magically enhanced, but it was a good way to teach Purebloods the capabilities of Muggles. "Don't underestimate the Muggles by comparing them to us wizards, it's like comparing apples and oranges."

"But these Muggle guns can't compare with high powered curses like the Blasting Curse," Astoria pressed.

"Amongst all the weapons Muggles use these days," Anya responded smoothly. "This pistol would probably be the first-year cutting curse of Muggle weaponry if we compare Muggle weaponry to curses."

"What!?" Astoria yelped. "Then what will be the Blasting Curse of Muggle weapons?"

"Very, very, very big explosion." Anya answered simply. "Would probably level the whole of Hogwarts if not for the wards."

"Muggles are that powerful?"

"But they can't mend a broken shoe without a specialist and a set of tools. Apples and oranges, Astoria."

"Uh... Anya?" Astoria said shyly.

"Yes?"

"Do you think... you can let me have a go at using the gun?"

"Another time, Astoria," Anya smiled. "Come on let's go back to the castle, lunch ought to be starting soon."

**XXXXX**

Harry had a plan and he felt like the time was right. The sun was shining, the birds were tweeting. Anyone would be in a good enough mood to be dragged off into a deserted corridor for a potentially awkward type of questioning. Or so he hoped.

Lunch was just over and good food probably contributed to good mood as well, Ron was a solid evidence to that statement. Harry had cleared up the rest of his homework in order to escape Hermione's enforced study regimentation and he was now starting his hunt for Anya. To his anger, he found Anya at the entrance of the Great Hall, with a wand pointed at her. Owner of said wand was Malfoy, who was flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. He was examining a book in his hand.

"What rubbish is this Seryy?" mocked Malfoy. "A Tale of Two Cities by - who's this? Charles Dickens? Muggle trinkets and now Muggle literature, who taught you would sink so low."

A small crowd had started to form at this point.

"You see here Seryy," Malfoy said snidely. "It's about time you break the bad habit of associating yourself with Muggles. It's bad for a charming lady like you and it's bad for the Slytherin image."

"Lay off her Malfoy!" Harry said loudly from the sidelines, drawing his wand and pointing at Malfoy.

"What?" Malfoy spat with a sneer. "Fallen head over heels for Seryy, scarhead?"

"You want me curse you that badly Malfoy?" Harry raised his wand higher.

Anya merely stood idly, unperturbed by the ongoing confrontation.

"Why are you just standing there Seryy? Too scared?" Crabbe demanded, irked by the girl's lack of reaction.

Anya simply shrugged with a wide grin, showing that she was neither scared nor concerned with the ongoing scene. Honestly, she was just stalling for a teacher or even Filch to pass by.

Apparently, Crabbe was having none of it. Too used to having his victims cower in fear, the calm demeanour of the girl goaded him into action, he swung his meaty fist straight towards Anya.

Harry immediately shifted his aim to the bulky Slytherin, but Anya was faster. Twisting her body and placing her hands on the oncoming arm, she shifted into Crabbe's centre of gravity and leveraged on his forward momentum. With one fluid motion, she brought the walking lard over her shoulder and onto the floor.

The small crowd exploded into gasps and a few brave cheers from several young Gryffindors. Without missing a beat, she spun around and delivered a swift jab into Goyle's diaphragm, who was moving forward for a punch of his own. The hit left him crumpling onto the floor, gasping for breath.

Straightening herself up, Anya strolled over to Malfoy, ignoring the shaking wand pointed at him and extended an open arm expectantly. Malfoy complied, returning Anya her novel, she took it and left without a word.

"Hold on," Malfoy stammered. "You're not going to strike me?"

"Why would I? Despite drawing your wand, you had absolutely zero intention of harm unlike the other two. If getting attacked is what you desire, ask Potter there, I'm sure he will happily oblige."

Harry paused for moment before running after Anya, ignoring the dumbfounded blonde.

"Seryy, wait up," he called out, catching up to her side. It was now or never.

"Why was Malfoy picking on you?"

"Muggle novel," she flashed the book to Harry before stowing it.

"You read Dickens?" Harry asked incredulously, recalling the abridged editions from his primary school days.

Anya simply nodded, keeping the frost between the two. Harry walked along in silence before carrying out his plan, he hadn't done this since his second year in Hogwarts.

"Do you understand me?"

"Are you hissing at me?"

Harry froze. Hermione had been right, she was not Anne Potter. Not his sister. He had been so sure she would respond. Parseltongue was hereditary, if she didn't possess that ability, she didn't share the same blood as him. Harry started to feel the cracks in his theories as reality slowly seeped in.

"Yeah... sorry about that," Harry mumbled. "I've got to go, just remembered something important."

Harry turned to leave, as soon as he was out of sight he ran, all the way back to his common room and to his empty dorms. He felt so stupid for believing in his pipe dream, and slightly guilty for disturbing the girl. The dam of emotions cracked and he broke down into sobs, realising that his sister was truly gone.

The next few days saw a constantly depressed Harry, the elation of the arrival of the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons delegates was completely lost on him, as was the climatic revelation of the Goblet of Fire.

"Harry you look like a mess," Hermione said worriedly, Harry had filled her and Ron up on his failed venture. Needless to say, she preferred a hopeful, annoying Harry to a downright depressed Harry.

"Oh, you noticed?" Harry retorted, turning back to his breakfast.

"Come on Harry," said Ron as he dug into his second helping. "Just focus on the Goblet and take a gander at the contenders."

Fred and George were on the floor, their beards the cause of laughter in the Great Hall. They had attempted to register as Champions - via names on gold-coloured parchment - rather than Junior Champions - silver parchment instead. The two climbed onto their feet and resigned to dropping in their silver parchments.

"Bugger," George grumbled as he returned to the table. "Could have sworn an Ageing Potion would do the trick."

"Fret not, brother dear - because I am," Fred said as he stroked his beard. "After all, there is the Junior Champion slot. Why didn't you enter young Harry?"

"Just want a peaceful year this time," Harry replied moodily, staring as a Beauxbaton boy placed his name in.

From the Slytherin table, Anya left the crowd of green and headed for the Goblet, dropping her silver parchment into the flames.

"Ok, let's not take said gander at the contenders," Ron said hastily, receiving a glare from Hermione.

"Ms Seryy of the Slytherin?" George observed.

"Can't have a Slytherin as a champion," Fred commented. "Junior or not."

"I dunno brother. Amongst the snakes, she is the only respectable contender."

"Only because she floored Crabbe-"

"And Goyle."

"Too true, you may have a point brother."

"I always do."

With that, the twins were ushered away by Professor McGonagall to the Hospital Wing to sort their beards out. Harry stared after them enviously, wishing he could have had the close bond they shared.

"Alright, it's safe to look again Harry," said Ron, earning a swat from Hermione.

"Harry, if it hurts that bad, you should write to Sirius," Hermione suggested.

"Hermione, just leave it. I'll deal with it sooner or later."

Soon, the day came when the Goblet of Fire would reveal the Champions. Everyone from all three schools were assembled in the Great Hall, the air was filled with an excited buzz that even had Harry on the edge of his seat.

"The Goblet of Fire will require a few more minutes before finalising its choice," Dumbledore announced, standing in front of the Goblet. "The Junior Champions will be revealed first before the Champions. Can the chosen contenders kindly head to the room behind me."

The first silver parchment sprung from the blue flames and Dumbledore caught it.

"The Junior Champion for Beauxbaton is Jean Poitiers."

An explosion of claps came from the French delegates and a merry brown-haired boy was promptly shoved forwards by his cheering friends. Dumbledore gestured the boy to a doorway behind the Great Hall and boy was soon out of sight.

"The Junior Champion for Durmstrang," said Dumbledore as he snatched another piece of silver parchment. "Is Mihail Dulovo."

Another rousing wave of applause erupted from the Great Hall and this time a stocky Bulgarian rose from his seat, disappearing behind the same doorway.

"For the last of the Junior Champions," Dumbledore said dramatically as the last silver parchment shot out. "From Hogwarts, Anya Seryy."

This time, the Slytherin table was the main contributor of the applause. There were a few jeers from the Gryffindor table, but those who had witnessed her takedown of Crabbe and Goyle - especially their victims - clapped hard for her. Anya was stood up as Zabini clapped her on the back, following the previous two into the back room.

"A Slytherin champion?" Ron exclaimed, aghast at the idea. "We can't have that."

Harry was silent, his mood dampened as he heard her name. She had become merely a wicked reminder of the sister he lost.

"Oh shut it Ron," said Hermione. "Would it kill you to show some school spirit, this isn't the Quidditch Cup."

"Besides, she fully capable of being a Triwizard champion. I share Runes class with her and she's a prodigy in Runes, she's even better than me," Hermione grudgingly admitted. "And I heard from Professor McGonagall that she is beyond our year in Transfiguration as well."

"There's someone better at studies than our Hermione?" Fred exclaimed in shock.

"What a scandal," George added.

"What a shame."

"No wonder she got to be Junior Champion," George finished with a hint of jealousy.

"Well, anyone who puts Crabbe and Goyle into a heap on the floor deserves to be a champion," Dean snickered from the side and everyone around laughed appreciatively at the memory, even Neville.

"Aw shut it mate," Seamus Finnigan jested. "You only say that because she's bloody cute and you've got the hots for her."

The laughs got even louder before the Goblet of Fire beginning sputtering blue flames once more and the first golden parchment shot out.

"Finally, the real deal," Ron yelled happily, banging the table in excitement.

"The Beauxbaton Champion is... Fleur Delacour."

The blonde girl stepped forward and left the Great Hall, much to the sad tears of some who were not chosen. Competition for the place of the actual Champion was a lot less warm.

"The Champion for Durmstrang is Viktor Krum."

He received the loudest applause by far, his surly demeanour did not change and he made his way over.

"And the Champion for Hogwarts is Cedric Diggory."

The Hufflepuff table erupted in crashing waves of applause, never had they ever been in the limelight and they were all too ready to show their house spirit.

Just as the applause died down and Dumbledore moved up to address the crowd, spark shot once again from the Goblet and another golden parchment leapt out. Dumbledore moved and caught it as it fluttered in the air, puzzling everyone around.

"Harry Potter."

The silence was ominous and the tension palpable. Harry could feel all of the whole Great Hall's eyes on him, it was as disconcerting as his second year with the Heir of Slytherin fiasco.

"Harry Potter!"

The voice had grown louder and Harry found himself being forced out of his seat, escorted by Professor McGonagall. He soon found himself in the same room as the champions, all staring at him curiously.

“What is it?” Fleur asked as she saw Harry enter. “Do they want us back in the Hall?”

There was a sound of scurrying feet as the contingent of adults entered the room, Ludo Bagman taking the lead. He grabbed Harry by the arm and ushered him towards the champions.

“Extraordinary!” he muttered, “Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce to you, the fourth Triwizard Champion.”

The looks on the champions varied from shock to amusement, with Poitiers frowning in bewilderment. “Wait, are you saying that Hogwarts gets to have two Junior Champions?”

“No, not a Junior Champion,” Bagman said, waving the golden parchment in front of the French boy. “He’s a full-fledged Champion, his name came out in this golden parchment.”

_ Harry Potter. Triwizard Champion. Hogwarts. _

“You see here? If he had been chosen as a Junior Champion, it would have said ‘Triwizard Junior Champion’ and the parchment would have been silver.”

Now it was Fleur who was frowning. “But evidently there has been a mistake, he is too young to be a Champion and compete in the same Tasks as us. He is too young.”

“Madame Maxime!” Fleur whirled over to her Headmistress. “This little boy is to compete with us too? As an actual Champion and not one of the Juniors?”

The tall lady spoke up. “Well Dumbly-dorr, what is the meaning of this?”

“I’d rather like to know myself too, Dumbledore.” Professor Karkaroff added. “Three Hogwarts Champions? And the underage boy there is to compete in the senior Tasks? I don’t remember seeing that in the rules.”

“And how is this supposed to work out?” Madame Maxime said. “The Junior Champions are supposed to help a senior counterpart for each of the Tasks, one to each. How will this play out when there are an odd number of total champions. Is one of the Champions supposed to go without help, or is one of the Junior Champions supposed to help two Champions? This is most unjust.”

Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry. “Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire as a senior Champion, Harry?”

“No,” Harry replied, very aware of everyone watching him closely and the soft noise of disbelief from the Bulgarian Junior Champion.

“Did you ask an older student to put it for you?”

“No.”

“Did you even register for the Triwizard Tournament, Junior Champion or Champion?”

“No.”

“Ah, but of course he is lying,” cried Madame Maxime.

“Mr Crouch… Mr Bagman,” said Karkaroff. “You are our – er – most objective judges here. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular.”

All eyes flicker to the two Ministry representatives, Mr Bagman looked uneasily at his counterpart, who took the lead, speaking in a curt voice. “We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the Tournament.”

“Well, Barty knows the rulebook from back to front,” said a beaming Bagman, as though the matter was finally closed.

Karkaroff was not amused and tried to press for a resubmission of names lest he withdrew Durmstrang from the Tournament. That was when Moody stepped in, binding magical contract and a suspected foul play on Harry’s life placed a halt on the argument and Bagman leapt at the opportunity to steer the conversation back to calmer waters.

“Well, shall we crack on, then?” he said, rubbing his hands together in excitement and smiling at everyone in the room. “Got to give our champions their instructions, haven’t we? Barty, want to do the honours?”

“Yes,” Mr Crouch said, seeming to come out if a deep reverie. “Instructions, the First Task. The First Task is to test the Champions your daring, so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard… very important. The Champions are not permitted to ask for help or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the Tournament. The Champions will face the First Task armed with only their wands. They will receive information about the Second Task when the first is over.”

“For the Junior Champions,” Mr Crouch turned to the younger students, barring Harry. “This task is to test your innovation and creativity. Although I mentioned that your senior counterparts can only enter the First Task armed with a wand, there is an exception. Junior Champions will be tasked with creating something for their assigned Champions in order to help them out with the First Task. The item you have made will be the only other item the Champions can bring along with their wand for the First Task. What you create will have to be proposed to your assigned teachers who will oversee you in your process of creation. Points will be assigned based on your creations, you may – as Junior Champions – ask your assigned teachers for help, but points may be deducted based on the level of help requested. Furthermore, as part of fostering international cooperation, Junior Champions will rotate themselves in helping each Champion from the three schools for each task. As a result of the recent  _ hiccup _ , both Hogwarts Champions will be lumped as one. Thus Junior Champions who will be assigned to assist Hogwarts will have to help both Mr Diggory and Mr Potter. Since Junior Champions will end up helping every school, this handicapped is hopefully distributed among everyone for sake of fairness.”

“The First Task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. Junior Champions, for this First Task, you will each help Champions from your own schools.” Mr Crouch finished crisply before turning to Dumbledore. “I think that will be all Dumbledore.”

“Indeed Barty, are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay at Hogwarts tonight?”

“No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry. It is a very busy, very difficult time the moment… I’ve left young Weatherby in charge… very enthusiastic… a little over-enthusiastic if truth be told.”

“You’ll come have a drink before you go, at least?”

“Come on Barty, I’m staying,” Bagman added brightly. “Things are much more interesting here in Hogwarts than t the Ministry.”

“I think not Ludo,” said Crouch, with a touch of his old impatience.

“Professor Karkaroff – Madame Maxime – a nightcap?”

But the other Headmaster and Headmistress had already left, bringing along their Champions along with them.

“Harry, Cedric, Anya, I suggest all three of you go up to bed,” said Dumbledore, smiling gently at the three. “I’m sure Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Slytherin will have much to celebrate over.”

With that, the three were dismissed from the room, walking down back to the Great Hall together, which was now empty.

“So,” said Cedric with a slight smile. “We’re playing against each other again!”

“I suppose,” said Harry, his head in complete disarray over the events of the past thirty minutes.

“So… tell me… how  _ did _ you get your name in as a senior Champion?”

“I didn’t, I didn’t put it in. I was telling the truth.”

“Ah… ok” said Cedric, though there was doubt behind that voice. “So, Seryy, it will be a pleasure working with you for the First Task.”

“Same here,” said the girl.

“You believe me don’t you, Seryy?” asked Harry, eyeing at the girl. That this rate, anyone believing in him was a plus.

“Yes,” the girl nodded. “I believe you, I also believe that you should be saying something along the lines of what Cedric just said. But nonetheless, I hope it will be a pleasure to work with you.”

“You believe me?” Harry croaked in disbelief as the three reached the Entrance Hall.

“You’re an open book, Potter,” said Anya. “And I believe in what I see, namely the expression on your face.”

“Well, see you both then,” Cedric bade the two fourth-years goodnight as left for the Hufflepuff common rooms. Anya followed suit, leaving Harry behind to figure out the mess he had been dragged into.


	7. First Task

Chapter 7 – First Task

Anya made her way down to the Great Hall for breakfast and she received many respectful nods and a few cheery greetings from her house table. Since becoming the Junior Champion, her standing in Slytherin had rose by a good few notches. There hadn't been much of a party when she had entered the common room back when she was chosen, just a small standing ovation and a few rounds of firewhisky that the seventh-years had brought in. Snape may favour his own house, but he still enforced discipline and no one wanted to get caught staying up late.

Her standing in the school had risen as well, owing to being a Junior Champion for Hogwarts. Her brother did not enjoy the same fate to say the least. Most had assumed that he cheated his way in from Junior Champion to Champion because he wanted more glory. As a result, he had become the target for most of the school’s mockery, culminating in Malfoy’s ‘POTTER STINKS’ badges. Despite unknowingly insulting Anya with the badges – not that she cared, she was no longer a Potter in her books, Malfoy’s attitude towards Anya had toned down, probably for being one of the champions.

It was in a Potions lesson that Anya and Harry were sent off the Wand Weighing ceremony, led by an excited Colin Creevey. The two ended up in a fairly small classroom, the rest of the champions were already there, along with Ludo Bagman and – from the looks a lady with a camera man flanking her – the press.

“Ah, there they are! The last of the champions!” cried Bagman as he spotted the two. “In you come, the both of you, it’s just a Wand Weighing ceremony. The rest of the judges will be here in a moment.”

“Wand Weighing?” Harry repeated nervously.

“Nothing to worry, just a check that your wands are functional. The expert’s upstairs with Dumbledore, after that will be a quick photo shoot by Rita Skeeter here for a small piece on the Tournament for the  _ Daily Prophet _ .”

Anya watched as Rita Skeeter requested and promptly dragged her brother off for an interview, she was then led by Bagman to a room with the rest of the champions. In the room stood a wizened old man with misty grey eyes, chatting with Dumbledore, Anya presumed that he was the expert Bagman mentioned. It was a while before Dumbledore left the room to fetch a relieved-looking Harry from the clutches of Rita Skeeter.

The old man was introduced as Mr Ollivander, who began the inspection of each wand, from Champions to Junior Champions. Each person had their turn until it was Anya’s turn

“Let’s see here Ms Seryy,” said Ollivander, inspecting her wand. He paused for a moment, a slight frown on his face. “Ah… intriguing, most intriguing. Birch and dragon heartstring, nine inches, all in working order.”

A wave of Anya’s wand and Ollivander conjured several butterflies, which flew off into the air. He returned her wand back, leaning into her ear as he did so.

“How did you come across this wand Ms Seryy?” a ghost of a whisper reached Anya’s ears.

“My one of my old teachers gave it to me. Why?” Anya whispered back. She chanced a glance at the old man, he looked suspicious, confused and curious, but there was no trace of anger.

“I recall very wand I made, as well as every wand my father and those before him had made. The wand you hold on to was made by my father. Incidentally, it belonged in a crate of wands that was stolen back in 1917. Intriguing, is it not?”

“I’m sorry for you and your father’s loss. If it is alright, I can pay for it after this ceremony, I prefer not to cause trouble for a wandmaker.”

“It’s quite alright my dear,” Ollivander said, patting her shoulder as she took back her wand. “There’s no point paying for the sins of others. In fact, I am pleased that at least one of the wands found its way into good hands.”

Ollivander moved back and allowed Anya to join in a quick photo shoot. The process was thankfully quick and the champions were soon dismissed for dinner. During dinner, she found Cedric hanging around the edge of the Slytherin table, clearly waiting for her. She sat down and pleasantly indicated him to join, to which he politely refused.

"Sorry Seryy, I ate already. I just wanted to ask, maybe we should meet up and discuss about tackling the First Task. After all, it's better to do this earlier."

"Sure, why not," Anya shrugged. "Meet me in Professor Snape's office after this."

"After dinner it is."

"What about Potter?" Anya nodded her head towards the Gryffindor table. "I'm supposed to be assisting him too. Want him to join along?"

"Well... Potter and I are supposed to be opponents technically but... I'm sure he has his own plan. He can meet you separately, I'll see you after dinner."

Since the Junior Champions had to have their creations approved by their assigned teachers, which in Hogwarts' case was the student's Head of House, Anya had to spend much of her time in Snape's office. The relations between the two were civil, choosing to spend as little time together as possible. Snape had simply offered her congratulations and stated that she was not to let Slytherin down during the Tournament. Besides that, the two acted like as though it was another Potions lesson, he would simply make an occasional inspection on her activities, deem it satisfactory and move on, not that Anya minded.

Soon, it was after dinner and Anya found Cedric loitering outside Snape’s office. The Hufflepuff looked up and glad to see her.

“You came, finally. Hanging outside Professor Snape’s office gives me the chills.”

“Understandable,” Anya chuckled, opening the office door and ushering him in. “Many people react like that to his office. Come on, let’s go.”

The two entered the office to see a brooding Snape grading Potions essay, his eyes flickered over to the pair and simply went back to grading.

“Do keep your discussions quiet, Ms Seryy and Mr Diggory. Your positions as champions does not give you the privilege of acting as you please.”

Both students nodded obediently and made their way over to a corner of Snape’s office where – for Triwizard Tournament purposes – Anya had been given to as a workshop of sorts. Tournament officials had placed in various wards for safety should any of the Junior Champions’ tinkering and experimenting go wrong. In the corner, there was only a simple table with a few books on top of it. On the centre of the table lay scraps of rough paper filled with scribblings.

“So do you have any plans, Cedric?” Anya asked, arranging this table to a more presentable state.

“Well, not really,” said Cedric. “Since they don’t tell us what the First Task is, I’m just going to have to play it by ear. But I do have a clue, researching all previous Tournaments, the First Task has always involved-”

“Dangerous magical creatures.”

“I’m glad to know my partner does her homework,” Cedric smiled. “So do  _ you _ have any plans?”

“Just a simple one on my part as the Junior Champion.”

“Well, what is it?” Cedric eagerly pressed.

Anya shuffled around her notes and chose a few choice pieces, hand them to Cedric. Cedric took the notes and looked through them, a look of confusion on his face.

“I assume these are runes, but since I don’t take them as electives, I have no idea what’s going on.”

“It’s a very simple plan,” Anya explained. “Since we have no idea what magical creature we are facing, I went with a general tactic that can be applied regardless of which magical creature gets thrown at you.”

“And that is?”

“Sensory denial. Looking up on the more dangerous creatures that might be chosen, they are statistically more reliant on senses other sight, such as hearing and smelling. This is a polar opposite of us humans who rely on sights mostly”

“So we cut off their sound and smell,” Cedric followed up, catching on to her idea. “This forces them to rely on sight where we will have the advantage, and this will work regardless of whichever creature they use.”

“Statistically, the odds are yes,” Anya finished up, handing him two ivory tusks covered with runes, one white and the other black. “Do keep in mind these do not affect just the creature you will face, this affects an entire area, so try to keep your sight sharp if you plan on using these.”

“Why are there two?” Cedric asked curiously.

“Part two of the plan, sensory overload. The white tusk removes all sound, smell and equalises heat – because some creatures are sensitive to heat – in the area. The black tusk emits sound, smell and heat, it wouldn’t likely overload a large creature’s senses, but it will probably be a good distraction, especially when combined with the white one to create an even sharper sensory contrast. Activation is just prodding with a wand. The rest is on you to overcome.”

“Wow, thanks a lot Seryy,” Cedric said with a wide toothy smile. “I didn’t even expect this from you, all this with just runes. I expect you made another set for Harry?”

“Yes,” Anya nodded, taking back her notes. She had gotten this done early on to get over with it, allowing her more time to catch up on studies. The moment she found out in a book containing the history of Triwizard Tournaments that the First Task involves magical creatures, she already knew what to do. Sensory denial and overload was one of the things Nathaniel had taught her.

_ Since you have a unique sensory capability, Anya, creating a complete mass sensory denial over a large area will only benefit you in a fight. _

She had spent one week doing the calculations and rough scripts for the runic complex, holed up completely in Snape’s office during her free time. Her proposal was submitted to Snape who, for his part, merely aided her in procuring the tusks of a centicore from the Tournament officials. Another day was spent carefully carving out the runes on the tusk until there was an inch of unmarked ivory.

“Once again, thanks a lot,” Cedric said. “I guess my plan now is set, huh. Eat a whole lot of carrots from today onwards, use the tusks and play it by ear.”

Anya laughed at that, collecting her tusks back, the items will be given during the task itself. Cedric bade her goodbye and left the office. Anya stored her tusks in a warded box provided by the Tournament officials and made to leave as well. As she left, Snape glanced up at her.

“Good work Ms Seryy, if the runes work. I’m sure Professor Babbling will be annoying me to no end about you after she sees your work during the First Task,” said Snape before turning back to his grading.

To her surprise, it seemed that her brother was not intent on seeking her out to prepare for the First Task. Ever since the ‘hissing’ incident, Anya realised that Harry had left her alone. She was surprised that her brother was a Parselmouth. Since it was an inherited trait, Anya took it that Harry dropped his suspicions on her when she did not understand his hissing. However, being somehow entered into the Triwizard Tournament, Harry had yet to make an effort in preparing for the First Task, at least Cedric – who was going to play it by ear – had bothered to read up on what to expect.

Anya realised what Harry had been doing, he had been trying to ignore the problem at hand, hoping that the nightmare would disappear one fine day. She did not appreciate Harry’s method with dealing the issue, as she was one to not hide but stare at the problem until all fears go away. However, she couldn’t deny getting a little worried for her brother. Fight, flight or freeze, these were the natural responses to danger, and Anya was pretty sure flight or freeze is not the appropriate response for a danger that was going to get you regardless of what you do.

There was hardly any love or bond between the two, but Anya was not fond of having someone who shared the same blood dying. Losing a part of you that you never used would still incur a hollow sense of emptiness. Even without being family, seeing a poor kid suffer like that was plain sad. She was tempted, many times, to just drag Harry out of his mood and give him a solid plan. But it takes two hands to clap and Anya could clearly see that one of the hands was disabled. Furthermore, she was not incentivised to take the first move, how the Champions fared did not really affect her points.

However, Harry did make a move eventually, although Anya found it to be very last minute. It was a day after a Hogsmeade visit that Anya found herself cornered by Harry and Hermione.

“Seryy, mind coming to the library with us?” Harry asked. “It’s got to do with the First Task.”

Anya nodded in response, following Harry and Hermione to the library. There, she grabbed a nearby chair and took a seat opposite Harry. Hermione had vanished into the phalanx of bookshelves, leaving the two together.

“You took your time to get into action,” Anya remarked, looking over where she last saw the bushy-haired girl.

“Sorry about that,” Harry said sheepishly. “Had a lot going in my mind, being in this forsaken Tournament and all.”

“I’ve noticed, so what am I here for?”

Answer came in the form of a pile of books thundering down the table between them, landing in a loud ‘thump’. Hermione was standing over them, facing Madam Pince and mouthing a silent ‘sorry’. Anya glossed over the titles and came to a conclusion.

“Dragons? That’s the First Task?”

“Yes, the Champions are going to have to get pass them,” Hermione said quickly. “So we need to come up with a course of action, you can help figure out a plan.”

“I thought my job was just to provide items to the Champions.”

“Well, have you?” Hermione pressed.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Harry echoed in surprise. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“You never asked,” said Anya, repeating the choice line of a familiar old man.

“And what did you come up with?” Hermione inquired.

Anya took a breath and began the same monologue she had given Cedric, mentioning the runic tusks and the general plan of sensory denial and overload.

“But allowing the dragon to still see isn’t foolproof,” Hermione said. “How is Harry going to get past a dragon, even with a sensory advantage?”

“That’s his job, though I would not recommend a head-on assault,” replied Anya, getting up from her seat.

Hermione was about to burst out but Harry spoke up before she could launch herself into a rant.

“You’re right, this is my part. Thanks a lot for those rune tusks, Seryy.” Harry said gratefully. “But still, any advice?”

“Play by your strengths?” Anya suggested with a shrug before leaving the two to their work. “Best of luck Potter.”

**XXXXX**

The roar of the crowd was ear-splitting as the spectators were eager – bloodthirsty almost – for the First Task to begin. Anya, along with the Junior Champions, had just made their way back to the Slytherin stands from the Champions tent, having passed their items to the Champions after the inspection of the Tournament officials.

“Well, what did you come up with, Anya?” Astoria asked from beside her.

“You’ll find out soon enough, I’m not going to spoil it.”

“Wise choice, Seryy,” Zabini said, grinning in anticipation. “I, for one, am fond of surprises.”

“Doesn’t matter what Seryy comes up with,” said a snide Malfoy from behind. “Potter’s dead regardless, I’ve got ten galleons on that.”

Most of the Slytherins nodded in agreement. One of the younger students sounded out, “What of Diggory?”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing the pretty boy lose his hair in the fire,” Zabini quipped.

“Only because he’s better looking than you,” Nott remarked, earning a glare from the dark-skinned Slytherin.

“Welcome,” the loud voice of Ludo Bagman boomed from everywhere. “Welcome to the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament.”

The applause and cheers reached a crescendo.

“The task at hand is very simple,” the voice explained energetically. “The Champions, with the aid of whatever the Junior Champions have provided, need to get past an angry mother dragon to retrieve a golden egg.”

“An angry mother dragon?” a seventh-year hissed happily. “Potter’s done for.”

“And without further ado, let us invite the first Champion into the stage for the show to begin. Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for Cedric Diggory.”

There was a mix of claps and shouts as the Hufflepuff entered the arena, a blueish-grey Swedish Short-Snout laid in wait, eyeing the newcomer suspiciously. The cheers slowly softened down into a steady buzz.

“What did the Hufflepuff say he would do?” Nott asked Anya.

“Play it by ear.”

There was a wave of snorts from the Slytherins around her who heard that statement. Cedric sprang into action, taking cover behind a large rock. He took out the two tusks and rapped the white one with his wand and the arena suddenly came to a pindrop silence, the only sound radiating from the stands and the commentary. The dragon stood dazedly for a moment, as though trying to find its bearings.

“And what was that?” Bagman cried out. “It appears that Mr Diggory has just pulled out the items provided by Ms Seryy, a runic item capable of either nullifying or emitting sound and smell, very smart against a creature that smells more than sees. Well, what’s his plan from here?”

A wave of Cedric’s wand had a nearby rock transfigure into a large Labrador, two motions of his wand activated the black tusk and sent it flying to the dog, sticking on its side. The screech and scent of rotting flesh reached the stands and the dragon immediately fixed it head in the direction of the dog. Both man and dog dashed off in opposite directions, Cedric keeping a low profile as he ran for the eggs while the dog made itself as obtrusive as possible. With the two contrasting runes in play, the Swedish Short-Snout paid no heed to Cedric, lunging for the bounding dog with haste.

“Oh! He’s taking risks, this one! Dashing straight for the eggs like that.” Bagman cried out.

However, the dragon was faster than everyone expect and it descended onto the transfigured dog as Cedric was halfway through reaching the eggs. Its fangs tore through the dog and smashed the runic tusk attached, cancelling its effects. The screeching from the dog stopped and the dragon begun to swivel its head about, searching for a new target. Despite, the Short-Snout having poor vision, the moving figure of Cedric still drew its attention.

“Ohhh…” Bagman said in disappointment. “It was a clever move utilising what Ms Seryy gave him, pity it didn’t last long enough. Now, is Mr Diggory going to close the distance on the golden egg? There’s a fair bit of distance, but he might just make it.”

Cedric was sprinting for the golden egg at top speed, and the dragon was closing in. Just as the Short-Snout let out a breath of fire, Cedric dove for the egg. The flames clipped just the top of his hair, but he managed to land right on the golden egg, securing his objective.

“Wow! That was close ladies and gentlemen,” Bagman cried out as the crowd erupted in thunderous cheers and the dragon-keepers rushed in to keep the Short-Snout at bay. “Fifteen minutes, not that bad indeed. Mr Diggory has set quite the benchmark for the next Champions. Now let’s take a look at the scores.”

_ Thirty-eight points in total, not bad. _

“Now, its Ms Seryy’s points for her runic item designed for wide-area alteration of noise and smell.”

A nine from Madame Maxime and Bagman. A five from Professor Karkaroff. And eights from Dumbledore and Crouch. The Slytherins around her exploded in cheers, clapping her in the back.

_ Thirty-nine, not bad as well. _

“Thirty-nine!” echoed Astoria, wrapping her arms tightly around Anya and yelping in joy. “That’s even better than Diggory.”

“Remember to lend me your Runes notes for future lessons,” Nott muttered from the side, a small smile on his lips.

“Cough up enough galleons and maybe I’ll consider.”

Fleur Delacour came next, with Jean Poitiers’ item. From what Anya saw, she was holding a sack tightly bound with string. The Welsh Green stared at the French in expectation, she banished the sack up in the air and hit it with a cutting curse. The contents within the sack came loose and the rich, strong aroma of roast meat filled her nose, around her see could see Crabbe and Goyle salivating from the scent alone. Within the sack was a lump of roast beef, clearly charmed or doused in potions to amplify its aroma. Fleur whirled her wand and pointed it straight at the roast beef, which began to multiply rapidly. It was the most unorthodox use of a  _ Geminio  _ Charm Anya had ever saw, but she couldn’t deny its effectiveness and creativity.

“Brilliant! Simply brilliant!” Bagman said with a rich laugh. “Who would have thought of something like that? Clearly, Ms Delacour and Mr Poitiers are bent on showing the superiority of French cuisine, and the dragon seems to confirm that statement as well.”

By this point, a small mountain of roast beef had formed between Fleur and the Welsh Green. The dragon had begun to feast on the meat and Fleur simply took her time sneaking around it, periodically casting more  _ Geminio  _ Charms to keep the Welsh Green in check. Fleur ended up with the golden egg in twenty minutes, but not a scratch on her.

When the judges cast their scores, an excellent display of Charms but a comparative lack in the task’s main purpose of showing daring earned her thirty-five points. Her partner, Poitiers, received thirty-eight points for showing the ability to think outside the box to come out with something simplistically creative via cooking and potions.

The Durmstrang Champion was next and he walked up bold as brass, staring down the Chinese Fireball without fear. A flick of his wand and Krum sent a vial hurtling straight for its nose, the vial burst into thick fumes which the Chinese Fireball inhaled.

The effect was instantaneous and the dragon began to sway a little. Krum followed up with a curse to the Chinese Fireball's eyes, the curse found its mark and the dragon ended up thrashing about in agony.

"Sweet Merlin, that man has guts taking a dragon face on," Bagman exclaimed. "Just the nerves you would expect from a world-class seeker."

Krum quickly made his way for the golden egg, avoiding the rampaging dragon as he did so. However, said rampaging dragon crushed a good number of eggs before Krum could get his golden egg. This had cost him points, but Krum had managed to top the competition so far, raking in forty points. Dulovo himself earned thirty-four for his prowess in potions.

Finally, it was Harry's turn. Anya watched on as her brother raised his wand and screamed at the top of his wand.

" _ Accio Firebolt _ ."

Smart. Anya mused, tactics like this were straight of out Nathaniel's and Grey’s books. There was a silent anticipation as everyone – including Bagman – waited for the results of Harry's gamble. Sure enough, a Firebolt came whizzing around the corner of the castle and into the arena.

"Well, this is an unexpected move from Mr Potter," Bagman declared. "Just what exactly is the plan our youngest Champion have concocted?"

Harry boarded his broomstick and began speeding towards a waiting Hungarian Horntail, turning and weaving around it. A sharp pull that brought Harry inches away from both hard ground and dragon fire elicited gasps from the crowds.

"Great Scott, he can fly! Mr Krum, are you watching this?"

The swing of the Horntail's spiky tail managed to scrape Harry's shoulder, this time eliciting screams from the crowd, but the Gryffindor was unfazed. Harry started climbing higher and higher in a sweeping circular path, slowly luring the protective mother dragon away from the eggs. When the Horntail had overextended, Harry dug into his robes and pulled out a black tusk, a prod from his wand and a great heave sent the screeching item in the opposite direction and the Horntail followed it.

"Oh! There's the set-up from Mr Potter. Great plan, but will the execution be just as great?

He dives down. The Horntail doesn't notice, it's too focused on Ms Seryy's little trinket. Potter speeds in. Arms are open. The Horntail has its wings spread open. There's the window of opportunity. Potter's going for the golden egg. Sweeps in and- YES!

We talked about the execution and Mr Potter here delivered  _ splendidly _ . Talk about skill, talk about nerves. Where was this man when England got flattened in this year's World Cup?"

There was a thunderous wave of cheers as Harry rose from the eggs, the golden egg tucked in his arm.

"Will you just look at that ladies and gentlemen, our youngest Champion is the fastest in getting his golden egg."

The dragon-keepers leapt into action and Harry was ushered away to the medical tent. When all had settled down, Harry had won forty points, bringing him up to tie with Krum. Anya, out of curiosity, chanced a glanced at Malfoy behind her, only to see the fuming blonde stomping away in anger.

"Come on, Anya," Astoria tugged at her sleeves. "Don't the champions get to visit the tents with a guest or two? Bring me along there, I want to take a look at Diggory."

"Diggory?" Anya asked.

"Excuse me? Haven't you seen that man, he's absolutely dreamy."

"Alright," Anya chuckled, rising from her seat. "You can tag along, I'm supposed to be there for a briefing once the task is over. But don't blame me if you get kicked out."

The two made their way to the tents, where Astoria promptly began to wander off on her own, taking care to avoid drawing attention. Anya let her be, the second-year was growing on her, covering a patch on her heart that had been violently ripped out long ago.

"Seryy, good to see you."

"Diggory, glad to see you alive. You've looked better."

"I can agree on that," the Hufflepuff grinned from beneath the thick yellow paste plastered on his face.

"The Short-Snout got you good, huh?"

"Would have been worse if not for your runes, worked very well, shame the Short-Snout got to the dog too fast. You ought to consider being a curse-breaker or even a ward specialist with that level of Runes."

"It was some nice Transfiguration work on your end to."

Anya left the Hufflepuff to rest and decided to check on the other Champions. Fleur was unharmed and Krum suffered a few bruises from avoiding the rampaging Chinese Fireball. Harry sat in corner, with Madam Pomfrey fussing over the gash on his shoulder. All in all, Hogwarts came out with more injuries in this First Task.

"You look like a mess Potter," Anya stated. "But that was some smooth flying though."

"Thanks, Seryy," Harry grinned. "Your runes were good too, threw the Horntail off and gave me an opening."

"Well, ladies and gentlemen," Bagman entered the tent jovially, bounding with energy. "That was an exciting First Task, but there's more to come. You see the charming golden eggs that you have fought hard for? They contain the clues for the upcoming task, so do give them a good inspection in your free time. The Second Task will take place on the twenty-third of January. As for the Champions and Junior Champions assignment, Jean Poitiers of Beauxbatons will be aiding Viktor Krum for the Second Task, Mihail Dulovo to the two Hogwarts Champions and Anya Seryy to Fleur Delacour. I wish you all good luck."

With a deep bow and a cheery wave, Bagman bid the champions farewell and excused himself, leaving the champions to themselves.


	8. Yule Part 1

Chapter 8 – Yule Part 1

**December 1991**

Despite it being late into the year, the weather in costal Xiamen was mild. Thank Merlin for the little things.

" 喂 ,  请问有没有人在家 ?" (Hello, is anyone home?)

The voice sounded like that of a little girl as the knocking on the door grew louder. The Chinese wizard grumbled in his window-side seat, he was comfortable and the flat offered a perfect view of the port. He was in his late thirties, sporting an impressive beer belly. On the table beside him lay a pair of omniculars, a wand and a pistol, he reached for the wand.

" 大哥 ,  你去看一看是 谁 !" (Big brother, go take a look at who it is!)

A surly elder Chinese across the room grunted and moved to the door. He wasn't really the other man's big brother, it was just how hierarchy was established in the Chinese gangs.

The portly man eyed his partner's movements from his seat, before he disappeared out of view. Why on Earth would anyone – especially a little girl – be disturbing them was beyond the man. It was two in the morning and their flat was heavily warded, no one should be knocking on their door, no one should even be able to detect their flat.

Around the corner where the man last saw his partner, a young girl stepped into view. She had a large overcoat wrapped around her, it was too big for her, she didn't bother putting her arms through the sleeves of it. Her green eyes were shining from the reflection of the light.

" 你到底在 这里干吗 ?  阿暴在哪儿 ?" (What on Earth are you doing here? Where's Ah Bao?")

The man raised his wand at girl with suspicion, but he didn't fire off any spell, the girl looked totally harmless. He cast his eyes about searching for any sign of his partner, but had he paid more attention to the girl, he would have noticed a tiny hole on the overcoat facing him. It was hip high and was the size of a bullet entry – or exit, there was a small protrusion against the coat near the hole as well.

He never felt his own death as his head snapped backwards, his body toppling down and landing on the floor violently but silently, courtesy of a swiftly placed Silencing Charm. His passing was absolutely silent, just like his partner at the doorway, blood pooling beneath the body.

The girl glanced around the room of the flat, closing her left eye and solely using her right eye. She strolled into every room and checked them, making sure no one else was in the flat, using her wand instead of hand to open the doors. As she reached the last door, it burst open before she could open it. A lanky Chinese sprang at her and pinned her against the wall.

The man began to open his mouth, a curse at the tip of his lips. However, trigger squeeze was always faster than an incantation, it was the reason the girl favoured her Makarov pistol instead of her wand. She tilted the pistol hidden by her overcoat upwards, emptying two rounds into the man, one in the neck, one in the eye.

The man slumped down onto the floor as the girl staggered to find her balance. She checked the last room and found it empty, the flat was clear.

"Crow to all. Observation post is clear," she softly said.

"Nice work Anya," a singsong voice chirped from her earpiece. "Is there any good snacks there? I'm starving"

"Tanya, cut the chatter," the sound of an irate Aleks buzzed out. "Dimitri, Jen, where are the two of you?"

"We're in position already," said Dimitri. "Jeez old man, it's like you don't trust us."

"Damn right I don't, I'd rather be anywhere else than here chaperoning a bunch of kids," Aleks snapped. "I would gladly pay galleons to have an actual ward-breaker like Vlad here than two fucking clowns."

"Then why would Nathaniel be trusting this operation to a bunch of kids, of which two of them are  _ fucking clowns _ ," came Dimitri's snide reply.

"How the fuck am I supposed to know!?" Aleks' yell almost made Anya rip her earpiece out.

Everyone was holding on to their snickers at this point, an angry Aleks was always fun to poke at, provided there was a safe distance from him. Anya made her way over to the once occupied seat and looked out the window. She could see most of the port, ships and cargo freighters were docked in a neat line by the towering red cranes, piles of shipping container were stacked on the port grounds. Despite it being far from sunrise, visibility was still provided by the numerous street lamps and the occasional moving lights signalling a truck delivering cargo.

Beyond the calm, black waters was the shore on the other side of the narrow straits separating Xiamen Island from the mainland. Pinpricks of light could be seen from the distance in the mainland.

Kiel entered the place, grimly looking at the dead bodies, taking care not to have his combat boots stained by the blood. Slung across his shoulder were two Dragunov rifles, one was his, the other was Anya's. He had a lightweight ballistic vest over his shirt, the vest harness holding a number of pouches and a pistol holster. Over the vest was a black jacket. He laid his rifle on the table and picked up the omniculars laying there.

"Russian-made," he commented as he examined the equipment. "We're likely on the right track, Russia doesn't export the omniculars they make."

"Window's bulletproof and spellproof too," he observed. "Laminated glass and protective charms."

"Let's get a move on shall we?" Kiel asked as he handed Anya her rifle.

Anya shrugged off the cumbersome overcoat to reveal a similar apparel as Kiel, it was the standard dressing for all of them. She took the rifle and pushed the window slightly open, enough for the barrel to slide though. Resting the rifle on the windowsill, she began her surveillance. It was a tip-off, a cargo freighter docking in Xiamen had magical goods from the Reds in Russia. A sign of goodwill to possible allies in China as they needed help, desperately.

It wasn't the goods Nathaniel had sent them over for, those were secondary. It was information, they needed to know which ship it was and the port in Russia it came from. Finding the ship had been easy enough, Anya simply had to take a broomstick and fly around the area under Disillusionment Charms. The ship surrounded by a web-like sphere of magic was the one they were looking for, Spooks and wizards always warded their belongings. Incidentally, that was also how Anya found the observation post she was currently in now.

Spooks. It was a term coined by the Muggles they had worked alongside with, unable to understand the magic performed in front of their very eyes. They were the bane of the Statue of Secrecy, yet they required the least interference from Oblivating. They operated with both magic and Muggle technology, knowing how to integrate one with the other and they understood both cultures well.

Governments and syndicates - both magical and Muggle - had their own. Wetwork was their chief line of operations, a grim and dirty bridge between two worlds. Wizards have always outdone Muggles via magic, but Spooks had many advantages wizards did not. One was that they learnt to appreciate the range Muggle technology had to offer.

Anya and Kiel's rifle went off almost in sync, two soft thumps as magically accelerated bullets sped across eight hundred meters. The two wizards under Disillusionment Charms at the gates of the port collapsed onto the floor, the charms conveniently hiding the bodies - and thankfully the blood as well.

"Did I hit him? I can't see the bodies," Kiel asked.

"It's a hit, I can confirm," Anya assured him. "The bullets when right through the cords."

"You say it like as though it's something I can understand."

Anya watched as Dimitri and Jen slip through the gates, making their way into the port. Under Disillusionment Charms, they darted from corner to corner, shadow to shadow. Finally, they reached the line of cargo freighters, silent giants slumbering.

"Which ship was it again, Anya?" Dimitri asked.

"Merlin's sake Dim," Jen said testily before Anya could respond. "Were you listening? Blue ship. Second down the line from the Southwest. Ship name is  _ Silver Glory _ . You're the clown Aleks keeps talking about."

"Shut your damn mouth and get going," Dimitri and Aleks' voice came out at almost the same time.

The two boys stealthily made their way down the line of ships keeping close to the shipping containers. When they reached the  _ Silver Glory _ , they pointed their wands at the freighter and started to probe the wards in place. Anya could see the web-like lines surrounding the ship waver and shake, reacting to the intrusions of the two boys.

"Crow," Jen chimed in amidst his long string of incantations. "Mind giving us a bit of assistance?"

"The ward fluxes are concentrated on eight specific nodes," Anya described as she observed the strands of magic weaving and twisting around the ship. "Each node has its own colour and has three thick lines surrounding it, some broken, some unbroken."

"Eight nodes... different colours," Jen muttered, trying to visualise Anya's description. "Three lines... broken and unbroken... Got it! Dimitri, it's an Eight Trigrams-based ward pattern."

That had been one the beauties of working with Jen, he never failed to interpret what Anya could see, they were normally on the same page.

"Damn me," whistled Dimitri. "No wonder this seemed so strange, never dealt much with Oriental wards. This is all you, Mr I-use-soy-sauce-instead-of-salt."

"Crow, tell me," the Asian ignored the jibe as he continued working on the wards, linking his magic to it. "Where's the node that has three unbroken lines around it?"

"Forty to fifty meters from the stern of the ship. Same level as the deck."

"Thanks," said Jen, Anya could see him stowing his wand as he dragged Dimitri down the port, to the stern of the ship. "Come on Dim, I'm going to need your raw power for this."

"Mind telling me the plan?" Dimitri asked as he ran alongside Jen.

"Each part of the Eight Trigrams has its own nature," Jen explained as he ran. "The one with three unbroken lines is  乾 (qian), the Heaven nature, each nature has its own seasons. In wards, this affects where the weak and strong points are. At this time of the year, Heaven is at its weakest."

"So we hit it at its weakest?"

"More or less."

Anya watched from her position as the duo got to work, waving their wands as the node of lines began to shake uncontrollably. The shaking climaxed as the node erupted into a mass of broken coils and the entire sphere of lines collapsed, the ward was broken.

"Ward's down, Aleks," Jen's voice sounded through the earpiece.

"Roger. Tanya and I are coming, keep yourselves out trouble in the short few seconds. Anya, Kiel, ensure that for me."

A few moments was all it took for Aleks to apparate to the bulwark in front of the freighter, bringing Tanya along with him. The man and girl joined up with the two boys and they checked the area for any threats, placing down their own temporary wards.

"Alright, everyone by the ship stay here, stay sharp. Crow, I'm apparating you over here to check for traps. Your eye might be good, but spotting small booby traps from your current location is liable to mistakes. Kiel, you can keep watch on your own."

A crack brought Aleks into the flat and Anya made to grab his arm, wishing that Nathaniel would start teaching her the Portkey Charm. One unpleasant trip brought her onto the port with the rest of the group. With their walking trap detector next to them, the group made their way onto the freighter, walking up the gangplank.

"You see any threats?" Aleks asked, keeping his eyes on the sights of his AK-47 as he scanned the deck of the freighter.

"No magical signatures that indicate a trap," Anya replied, swapping her Dragunov for her Makarov and sliding the rifle in her magically expanded knapsack. "So far no Muggle traps too."

"Tanya, with me up to the bridge," said Aleks, taking charge. "Crow, you and the two clowns comb the deck and see if you find what the Reds have to offer."

Tanya followed Aleks up the stairs of the freighter, Silencing Charms cancelling what would have been the loud clanking of boot on metal steps.

"Shall we?" Jen asked, whirling his wand in excitement. The three made their way through the deck, weaving through the containers on the freighter. It was mostly empty, except for the two gun-wielding Muggles they had to Confound. Soon, a particular crate caught Anya's eye.

"That container there," said Anya, pointing a finger that the blue metal container. "Has magic on it, wards and protective charms. Likely a locking spell of sorts."

"Nothing ol' thermite paste can't solve," Dimitri said, opening one of the pouches on his vest and pulling out a plastic tube. He uncapped the tube and squeezed out a reddish-brown paste on the hinges of the container door.

"You know," Anya said nonchalantly. "You and Jen could have broken the wards magically and just open the door."

"And miss the chance to set things on fire? Fuck off. Plus, it feels good knowing their protective spells are useless against plain old fire.  _ Incendio _ ."

The thermite paste lit up into a blinding flare as Dimitri's spell connected, biting into the steel door with ease as the reaction reached scorching temperatures of beyond four thousand degrees Fahrenheit. The steel hinges did not stand a chance as they melted away, leaving the disconnected door toppling onto the floor, the sound of its almighty crash silenced by a jab of both Anya and Jen's wand. The three poked their heads in, wands and pistols raised.

" _ Lumos _ ." Jen muttered.

"Well, if the tip-off called this a goodwill gift," said Dimitri, looking at the contents of the boxes within the container. "The Reds are really damn desperate for allies."

"No kidding," Anya looked over the intended gifts. It would have cost quite a sum, dragon's blood and hide, various potions and a baby dragon – a Siberian Twin-Tail if Anya was not mistaken – sedated and bound in a cage.

"What'd you think we do?" Jen asked, inspecting a bottle of dragon's blood.

"Burn them all?" Dimitri shrugged, reaching for another tube of thermite paste. "Not like we brought the equipment to load them all back to Russia."

"Yes, burn the dragon, Dimitri," Anya said sardonically. "Who would have thought of that?"

"Top that off with potential collateral damage," Jen added, now bending over to check on the sedated dragon.

"Come on," Dimitri protested. "We've done more collateral damage than that."

"Crow, Dimitri, Jen. Where are you?" Aleks' voice crackled in their earpiece. "Tanya and I are done searching the bridge, we got our location."

"Where?" Anya and Jen asked in unison.

"Vladivostok."

**XXXXX**

**December 1994**

With the Yule Ball arriving in weeks, Anya noticed that the festive air in Hogwarts was simply bounding with energy. Classes had slowly started to lose their tempo as student became more and more eager for what many had considered to be 'the highlight of the year'. The teachers had tried to reign in some control over their class, to varying degrees of effect. McGonagall, Snape and Moody firmly remained in control, but other teachers were beginning to slowly lose their class as the days ticked closer and closer to the Ball.

"Ms Seryy, see me after this class is over," Snape called out to her as she was working on her antidote, the main topic for this year's Potions.

Anya glanced up at the man, trying to get a read on his intentions, but the man remained as inscrutable as ever. She could also notice the stares she was getting from the class, Snape calling to see someone after class never bode well.

"Yes sir," she nodded before returning to her work.

When the bell rang and the students began packing their bags, Anya stayed behind, patiently waiting for Snape.

"Ms Seryy, it is my duty to remind you that the champions need to bring a partner of the opening dance of the Yule Ball," Snape said uninterestingly, sounding as though he had much better things to do. "Had Professor Dumbledore not pestered all the Head-of-Houses to ensure this, I would not have bothered with this conversation. In order to placate our Headmaster, I will have to ask, have you found a partner for the Ball yet?"

"Not yet, sir," Anya replied casually. "Rest assured, I will ensure that it is done."

"I would expect so," Snape said offhandedly, waving her off in dismissal. "You have proven your self-sufficiency adequately and I question why our Headmaster finds all this necessary, but my job is done. You may go."

As Anya left the dungeon, she found Nott and Zabini waiting for her, leaning against the stone walls of the Hogwarts corridors, both of them with a fag between their fingers. The three of them started making their way to the Great Hall for lunch.

"So what did Snape want you for?" Zabini asked as he let out a puff of smoke, the mild smell of burned tobacco tainting the air.

"Wanted to know if I had a partner for the Yule Ball."

"Do you?" Nott spoke up, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Not yet."

The three had reached the Slytherin table and began placing food on their plates, Nott and Zabini had disposed of their fags long ago.

"Worry not," Zabini said, digging into his potatoes. "I'm sure there'll be herds of boys asking for your hand, you're good looking and a Junior Champion. Heck, I may even be part of the herd."

"Are you asking?" Anya inquired, giving the dark-skinned Slytherin a sidelong glance.

"Not yet," Zabini grinned. "At the moment, you're second choice. I've got my eyes on this smoking hot Ravenclaw at the moment."

Anya and Nott snickered into their pumpkin juice, Zabini's numerous flings at many of the female population had been a source of amusement. Or rather, the backlash he suffered whenever he dumped one to switch targets, Anya could still clearly recall the screeching third-year Ravenclaw girl who hexed Zabini so badly he had to stay in the Hospital Wing overnight.

"Oh! You're going to ask Cho Chang?" giggled Davis. "Good luck with that Zabini, you're going to have stiff competition. What about you Seryy, anyone in mind?"

"None at all, Davis," said Anya with a shake of her head. "Not going to fuss over such things, it's not life or death."

"Not life or death?" repeated Davis in shock. "This is going to be the biggest social event Hogwarts had in years, it is life or death. You get to ask your crush out and an admirer may ask you out, it's the perfect situation for love to bloom."

Merely humming in acknowledgement, Anya continued on with her meal, allowing Davis to stew in her thoughts.

"Sure wish I was you, Seryy," Davis said enviously. "I'd have people dying to ask me out, especially Potter."

"What?" Anya snorted with surprise and disbelief, holding back the laughter that was building in her throat. "You're kidding, Davis."

"No, I'm not!" the other girl exclaimed. "Look at the way he  _ stares _ at you, he even tried to intervene when Malfoy tried to pick on you, knight in shining armour and all. I would gladly go to the Ball with  _ The-Boy-Who-Lived _ ."

"That was hardly an intervention and he doesn't stare at me anymore, it's probably because I was a new student," Anya waved it off with a light chuckle.

"Whatever you say Seryy."

Zabini and Davis had been right though, the days approaching the Yule Ball saw Anya starting to receive more and more gifts from admirers. Morning posts had owls bearing Anya the usual gifts of flowers and chocolates, the suitors had slowly started to appear as well.

The first to ask her was a nervous Gryffindor first-year, Anya had to give him credit, his bravery befitted his house. She politely turned him down. Then, there were the waves of egoistical seventh-years whose heads were so inflated she rejected them outright. However, she wasn't that picky and the event seemed of little importance to her. In the spirit of international cooperation, or more likely in hopes of not having to talk as much due to a language barrier, she accepted a charming Beauxbatons student's request to accompany her for the Yule Ball.

"I can't believe you went out with a foreigner," said Zabini one day as the three Slytherins hung out in the corner of the school for a smoke break, Anya the only one without a cigarette in her mouth.

"That's rich, telling that to a foreign transfer student."

"I would have gone with you," Zabini said in mock furiousness. "I did say you were  _ second _ choice."

All of them laughed at that, even Nott let out a small rumble of amusement.

"What a shame you got rejected by Cho Chang," Anya said mirthfully, turning another page of her Charms textbook. "Guess pretty boy wasn't pretty enough."

"Hey! How was I supposed to know that Cedric Diggory, the freaking Hogwarts Champion, had already asked her," Zabini defended himself. "Not to worry though, I've got myself an almost equally hot Durmstrang girl in my arms."

"I knew Diggory was better looking than you," Nott said softly from the side, sending an amused glance at the dark-skinned boy as he jibed at his weak spot.

The statement drew astonishing results as Zabini launched into a furious tirade against the Hufflepuff, sending Anya and Nott into fresh waves of laughter.

"Uh... Seryy? Can I have a moment?"

Anya turned her attention to the newcomer and was surprised to see her brother standing there, nervously fidgeting.

"Well, I'm not assisting you in the next task, but sure."

Anya left the two smokers and followed Harry, walking beside him.

"Was that Zabini and Nott smoking?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Are you going to keep that to yourself, or am I going to have to try my hand at a memory charm?" Anya sighed.

"No, I'll keep it to myself," Harry said quickly as he came to a stop and faced Anya. "I want to ask you something actually."

"And what's that?" Anya asked casually, but brought her guard up.

Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment before taking a deep breath and opening his mouth.

"Will... you go to the Ball with me?"

Anya forced herself to keep a straight face as Davis' mocking voice found its way into her head, repeating itself like a broken recorder.

_ There's absolutely no way. _

In the end, as soon as the words 'accidental incest' formed in her mind, she could not keep her straight face any longer. She smacked her hand to her face and bent over laughing, tears forming in her eyes. She couldn't care less if she looked in front of Harry's eyes, but the stupidity of the scenario was too hilarious to Anya, it seemed straight out from one those dumb soap operas Dimitri had binged on.

"I'll take that as a no?" Harry said depressingly, looking hurt by Anya's reaction.

"Yes, it's a no, Potter," said Anya as soon as she calmed herself down, wiping the tears off her eyes. "But don't take my laughter the wrong way. I've already gotten a date, you just reminded me of the last person who asked me to the Ball a few hours ago. And let me assure you that he did much, much,  _ much _ worse than you."

"Oh," Harry said softly, looking mollified by her half-truths. "What'd he do?"

"Dropped his pants accidently while he was asking me," Anya fibbed easily. "Not the most impressive of displays."

"I can imagine," Harry chuckled at the image of it. "So who are you going with?"

"Some Beauxbatons bloke, couldn't bother with his name. It was Arno or Andre something, I can't remember."

"You can't remember the name of your date?" Harry asked in surprise.

"I'm not really into this Yule Ball thing. It's fun I guess, but very tedious from the sound of it."

"Yeah, well. I guess I'll see you at the Ball."

"Indeed, and Potter."

"Yes."

"Don't be afraid to ask the girls to the Ball, you're already a good catch and confidence builds a good image."


	9. Yule Part 2

Chapter 9 - Yule Part 2

**December 1991**

Chilling waves of Arctic waters pummelled the bulwarks of the Vladivostok coast, splashing into jets of ice-cold droplets as waves met concrete. Off into the city, the last rays of crimson sunlight were peeking through the gaps between the buildings, slowly being dragged down by time.

Anya and Jen did the last of their rounds about the waterfront of the city, searching for any wards that may indicate a hidden headquarters. The information from Xiamen had corroborated with other sources from Nathaniel, their man was in Vladivostok, and so was his headquarters. Aleks' had brought the kids to Vladivostok to join up with Nathaniel, Vlad and a few other adults she couldn't recognise. From there, they had split into pairs, combing the city for their man. Ignovich was his name and he was responsible - though seldom personally - for a third of all kidnapping cases in eastern Russia, Muggle and magical.

" 乌鸦 ,  找得到 吗 (Crow, can you find it)?" Jen asked her as he checked their rear, keeping an eye out for ambushes. Despite being brought in by Nathaniel for five years, Mandarin never wore off the boy's speech. Anya had been the first and only other person to humour that trait of his.

" 找不到 (Can't find it)," Anya sighed, clutching her coat ever closer. " 真想念厦 门的天气 (I really miss Xiamen's weather)."

" 我也是 (Me too)," Jen laughed dryly. " 俄国太冷了 (Russia's too cold)."

The two huddled together for warmth as they walked along the coastline, scanning for anything out of the ordinary. Or rather, Anya scanned while Jen watched her back. The lines her right eye saw twisted about, but none of them hinted any wards. Suddenly, dread filled her body as she saw blood-red lines creep about the fringes of her vision. She recognised them, a number of Nathaniel's and many of Vlad's training sessions had made her right eye sensitive to it.

She was directly in the line of danger.

There was an inherent fear in the sensation of knowing you are in danger but understanding how or why. Her body simply stiffened at the sensation, five senses thrown into overdrive as her body sought to figure out the source of her danger. However, she picked out no magic in the air, the threat was completely non-magical. The crimson lines seemed to tauten as the moments when by, similar to the white lines whenever she placed her finger on the trigger of her Dragunov.

Jen acted immediately, noticing his partner stiffening. He threw himself on her and instinctively cast a Shield Charm, covering the girl from any harm. Anya saw the red lines fade away as the two of them landed on the floor, Jen taking the brunt of the fall. Bright violet sparks showered onto the two of them in light scalding sensations as something fast impacted Jen's shields.

"Sniper, northwest," Jen spoke quickly as he took note of the direction the bullet came from, switching from Mandarin in favour of the English Nathaniel had enforced on them for missions. " _ Fumos _ ."

Smoke erupted from the tip of Jen’s wand into a thick blanket, denying their foe a clear target. He hauled Anya up to her feet and the two took off running under the cover of the smokescreen Jen had cast. Anya took a moment to notice the irony of it all, the lack of concealment spells was the reason she didn't see the sniper. Two Disillusionment Charms were cast, followed by a wide-area heating charm to mask their heat signatures. If their sniper did not use magic at all, thermal optics – a device easily disrupted by magic – would now be a possible option by the sniper. Anya and Jen both realised this and they were not taking chances, Disillusionment Charms did not hide their heat.

Jen called in for help through his earpiece while Anya drew her Dragunov from her knapsack and took aim, the smokescreen hampering her in no manner. The whirl and tautening of the white lines in her vision signalled the pull of her trigger. The spurt of blood registered by her right eye was the confirmation she needed.

"Are the both of you alright?" a crack of apparition brought Nathaniel and Vlad over to them, both holding on to wand and pistol.

"Shaken but fine," Anya reported, pointing at where the sniper was. "I took a shot, his rifle and right arm is disabled but he should be alive.

The adults spoke no words, they merely disapparated. The two kids waited for what seemed to be minutes before Nathaniel's voice crackled into their earpiece.

"Everyone, we got the location. Rendezvous at Pokrovsky Park, by the church."

Another crack of apparition had Nathaniel between the two kids. He grabbed their arms and spun around, bringing the two along to the park. The Church of the Intercession of the Mother of God was a newly built Orthodox Church and one of the new religious sightseeing spots for tourists.

However, it now served as a location for an odd gathering of people. Anya saw Aleks and Dimitri lurking under a tree, shooting dirty glares at each other, maybe pairing them up together was a mistake. Vlad, a gaunt ashen man with matte black hair, was patrolling the area, fresh blood dripping from his hands. The others were flushed against the wall of the church, looking expectantly at Nathaniel.

"Listen up," Nathaniel said, pulling out a piece of paper. "Coordinates are on this piece of paper, put them in your GPS and take a look at the area. I'll give you guys three minutes to get a good look at the expected terrain before we move. We're going to need to be fast, because there's a chance they know we're coming."

A wave of his wand duplicated the paper and sent the copies to everyone. Anya caught her and placed the numbers on her GPS, watching as the screen showed an industrial complex on the outskirts of the city.

"Vlad and I will move first, we'll apparate to the place and lock it down with Anti-Disapparition and Anti-Portkey Jinxes. Entry point will be the eastern wall, the team going in will be me, Vlad, Igor and Zahir. Anya, you and Jen will follow us, I'll need your eye. The rest of you, surround the area and make sure no one gets out."

Whirling on the spot, the two men disapparated away, leaving the rest to familiarise themselves with the upcoming area. Anya could notice a couple of envious stares from some of the younger adults directed at her and Jen. Nathaniel seldom took on protégés and many had to claw their way to being able to take part in operations with him.

"Three minutes are up!" someone shouted, prompting everyone to begin their apparitions. One bronze-skinned Middle Eastern man grabbed Anya and Jen, bringing them to Nathaniel with a spin.

The site was large, metal fences and cinder block walls surrounded the compound in multiple layers, barbed wire sitting on top of them. Brown blocks of buildings laid in neat rows, some with tall black chimneys attached to their side and many with glass encompassed by dark metal grates adorning their walls. Thick pipes and wires crawled all over the buildings, sprawling over the area like the intestines of the compound.

Nathaniel and Vlad were standing by the street that ran down to the gates of the compound, using the alleyway for cover and waiting for company. Nathaniel caught sight of his reinforcements and nodded to Vlad. Vlad turned to the oncoming people and jerked his head to the gates of the compound, signalling them to follow.

"Anya," Nathaniel said curtly. "What do you see?"

"Wards, plenty of them," Anya observed, looking over the place. Far into the compound, blue lines flew out from various buildings at top speed, only to bounce off a mesh of red lines surrounding the compound. "Portkeys are being activated too, your jinxes are working though."

"Well, it looks like they already know we are coming," Nathaniel said, turning to Vlad. "Looks like we don't need to silently crack the wards, so much for bringing Jen. Vlad, you can use  _ the _ ward-breaker."

Taking off with a light jog, Nathaniel made his way to the gate where two people were standing guard on high alert, their rifles held high and close to the chest. They were expecting trouble. Seeing the approaching man, the guards levelled their rifles at him.

" _ Kto ty _ ?" one of the guards shouted, taking a step forward.

Nathaniel took no heed, continuing his path as he swiped his wand in the air, turning their rifles into rabid canines. The feral dogs leapt out of the guards' arms, turning on the spot as they landed and leaping back at their throats. The guards toppled onto the ground as the dogs clamped violently on their throats, fangs sinking through flesh. Their cries stifled as voices struggled to pass through sealed windpipes.

As Nathaniel reached the gates, he waved his wand a few times to no effect. He turned back to where Vlad and the others were standing, giving the ashen man a thumbs up. Then, he ran away from the gates, taking cover behind a parked car.

Reaching into his bag, Vlad pulled out a RPG-7D.  _ Ruchnoy Protivotankoviy Granatomyot _ , a Russian-made rocket-propelled grenade launcher. It was the anti-armour weapon of choice for the Muggle irregular military. It was rugged, simple and cheap. More importantly, it got the job done.

From the bag, Vlad also took out a warhead for the launcher. The warhead was carved completely in runes built for destroying magical wards, a number of its lines were sequenced to convert the explosive power of the Muggle weapon into raw magical power to fuel the runes. However, its secret 'ingredient' was a technique devised by Nathaniel's grandfather to amplify the power of Muggle explosives, it was soaked in a Strengthening Solution for twenty four hours and left to dry.

Vlad loaded in the warhead and took aim. With a pull of the trigger, the warhead took off into the air in a swift 'whoosh', speeding into the compound gates and – more importantly – the wards. As the warhead impacted the gates, it exploded into a large black fireball, sending shockwaves into the air. Nobody needed a magical sight to see the wards fall as the air around the compound turned into a milky white, before bursting open like a popped bubble from where the warhead had struck.

Immediately, shouts sounded across the compound and an Intruder Charm went off, sending ear-piercing shrieks into the air. The group started moving into the compound, the two unfamiliar faces – Igor and Zahir – taking the front with rifles raised while Anya and Jen stuck with Nathaniel at the centre, wands and pistols drawn. Vlad kept to the back covering their rear, stowing away the RPG.

"Anya, keep an eye out for where they cast new wards," Nathaniel told the girl. "That's where Ignovich will be, the coward likes being in the safest place possible."

"Got it."

As the group reached deeper into the compound, resistance started to show up, mix of gunfire and spells flying through the air at them. Everyone took cover as Nathaniel cast a Shield Charm, absorbing the first few blows to buy precious seconds for the slower ones to find cover. Soon, there was a firefight ongoing as both bullets and spells were exchanged. Anya and Jen kept close together, with Anya at the front firing deadly accurate shots with her Makarov while Jen stuck at her back with his wand, maintaining his own Shield Charm as he covered what little blind spots Anya had with the suppressive fire of his own pistol. Another shot from Anya nicked a peeking foe who was sticking his head from behind a wall in the eye, a spurt of crimson gushing out from the socket. Though Ignovich’s men tried to put up a stiff resistance, Nathaniel's men gained ground quickly, quality beating quantity to a pulp. In the end, the fight was decided when Nathaniel took heavy action.

" _ Accio grenade pins! _ "

A flick of his wand had multiple grenade pins flying from Ignovich's men to him, beckoned by the Summoning Charm. With a swift wave of his wand, the pins were transfigured into hornets which changed directions, darting high and low around the walls to Ignovich's men.

Supplemented with a Blasting Curse of his own, the synchronised explosion had Anya's ears ringing. Nathaniel calmly walked forward, transfiguring the rubbles made by his Blasting Curse into a pack of feral dogs, which began running down the opposing men. At this point, the slow retreat of Ignovich's men had crumbled into a full-fledged rout, men scrambling over one another to escape the transfigured dogs and hornets.

"Nathaniel, I see new wards," Anya called out as she saw strands of magic burst out, surrounding a building in the distance. "Two o'clock. The building with the chimney beside it."

"Understood," Nathaniel replied, before rallying the group. "Everyone, on me. Move!"

The group followed Nathaniel's lead, running through the compound's alleyways and bypassing walls with Reductor Curses. They ended up at a small office building beside a warehouse, trucks still parked at its loading bay. A quick spell from Nathaniel and Anya's sight both confirmed the presence of wards, which gave Vlad the cue to bring forth his RPG-7D. One black fireball later and they were through the wards, Nathaniel casting sealing spells to ensure Ignovich stayed trapped in the building.

"Anya, check for last minute wards."

"Second floor, third window from the left, newly cast."

Nathaniel grunted in response, blasting the building door open with his wand. Everyone filtered into the building, guns and wands pointing at every corner, checking for enemies. When the first room was clear, they began moving up the stairs. The formation was the same as usual, guns on the front, wands on the rear. The first stairway door opened and the sound of two cracks filled the air, one each from Igor and Zahir's rifles. A body crumpled on to the floor as the bullets ripped into his chest, wand rolling away from his hand.

"Tripwire mine, at the door," Anya warned as the door to the second floor opened, her right eye picking out the near invisible cord stretched taut across the doorway. "No magical modifications, purely Muggle."

A Freezing Charm from Nathaniel disabled the trap and the group proceeded, keeping close to the walls of the corridor. Finally, they came across the warded room Anya had spotted, an invisible solid barrier halting their progress.

"Jen," Nathaniel said, ushering the Chinese boy forward.

Jen crept forward with his wand drawn and began prodding the ward, slowly deciphering its sequence and construct. Less than a minute and the hastily propped up ward that Ignovich or his men had cast was dismantled, the only obstruction left being the door.

"Twenty seconds, Jen," Nathaniel mused, allowing Jen a small grin of pride. "That's a new record."

" _ Ostavaytes' na meste _ (Stay where you are)!" a panicked scream came from behind the door. " _ Tseloye mesto zapolneno magicheskimi vzryvchatymi veshchestvami. Yesli ty voydesh', ya ikh vzorvu _ .(The whole place is filled with magical explosives. If you enter, I will blow them up.)"

Nathaniel cocked her head to Anya who shook her, literally seeing through the man's bluff. Nathaniel pointed his wand at the door and opened it, another spell at the cabinets lining the corridor transfigured them into feral dogs which rushed into the room. As the screams reached a high, Nathaniel burst into the room, everyone else at his back. A Shield Charm was Nathaniel's first spell as the front man, blocking bullets and curses from those not pinned down by the dogs. Sharp bursts of gunfire from Igor and Zahir riddled many of Ignovich's men with bullets, their bodies dancing like marionettes as the bullets entered their bodies. Severing Charms from Anya and Jen opened the necks of a few men, while a powerful Knockback Jinx from Vlad sent a tall, stooping man flying at the wall.

The sole survivor – the tall, stooping man Vlad had sent to the wall – slid onto the ground, his hands struggling to support himself. His feeble attempt to raise his wand was blocked by a Disarming Charm from Vlad. A Summoning Charm from Nathaniel had the man's other weapons flying out from his coat, knives, pistol and a lethal syringe.

" _ Ignovich _ ," Nathaniel said pleasantly, looking down at the man. " _ Davno ne videlis' _ (Long time no see)."

" _ Borzaya, _ " the man spat. " _ Chto ty khochesh' na etot raz _ (What do you want this time)?"

" _ Informatsiya _ (Information)," Nathaniel said with a grin. " _ Posmotri pravde v glaza, starik, igra okonchena _ (Face it, old man, the game is over)."

" _ Eto ne verno _ (It's not true)!" Ignovich screamed in detail, trying to claw up to his feet. " _ Sistema khoroshaya, sistema ideal'naya _ (The system is good, the system is perfect)!"

" _ Eto bolezn' _ (It's a disease)." Nathaniel said stoically as he planted his boot on the man's face, sending him back on the floor. " _ Menya udivlyayet, naskol'ko ty slep _ (It surprises me how blind you are)."

" _ Vy nazyvayete svoyego deda slepym? U nego bylo takoye zhe videniye _ .(Do you call your grandfather blind? He had the same vision.)"

The silver haired man pointed his wand at Ignovich.

" _ Crucio. _ "

Ignovich writhed on the bloodstained floor as the curse worked it magic. It was a few minutes before Nathaniel finally lifted the curse.

" _ Imperio. Legilimens _ ."

Ignovich's eyes glazed over for seconds before coming back to focus, forcing a look of surprise from Nathaniel.

"I didn't think you had it in you, coward," Nathaniel muttered under his breath. " _ Poskol'ku vy ne khotite govorit', my sdelayem eto tak _ (Since you do not want to talk, we will do it like this)."

" _ Veritaserum? _ " Ignovich suggested weakly.

Nathaniel shook his head and nodded to Vlad, who grabbed a suitcase from his magically expanded bag. The suitcase was opened to reveal an assortment of vials filled with potions and powders, two IV bags and a set of surgical tools.

" _ Pozhaluysta, prosto ispol'zuyte Veritaserum _ (Please just use Veritaserum)," the pale-faced man pleaded as he saw the suitcase.

" _ Veritaserum ogranichen tem, chto sprashivayut _ (Veritaserum is limited to what is asked)," Nathaniel said calmly as he pulled a chair for himself. " _ Pytki pobuzhdayut lyudey govorit' ne tol'ko o tom, chto ikh prosyat _ (Torture encourages people to talk not only about what they are being asked)."

Tears began to leak out of the man's eyes as he croaked out in heavily accented English, "I'll speak."

"Speaking in English does not endear you to me in any form," Nathaniel said coldly, taking a sit in front of the man. "Vlad, shall we start with lysergic acid diethylamide and scalpel?"

The gaunt man nodded and grabbed a vial, measuring its contents into an IV bag. When that was done, he reached for a scalpel with his other hand and approached a trembling Ignovich. Anya and Jen stood in a corner watching, Jen had his eyes partially averted but Anya had no such compulsions, though she did narrow her eyes in disgust.

_ Do not ignore. Do not back down. Stare death, pain, and gore in the eye until they are but motions in life. _

She was itching for an Invigoration Draught.

"Frankly, I take no pleasure in this, maybe Vlad does," Nathaniel said, leaning back on his chair. "But I can be quite sure I'll be here for a long time. And since we are here in this festive time, allow me to say: Merry Yule."

**XXXXX**

**December 1994**

Preparations for the Yule Ball seemed to be in full swing, ice and snow fashionably adorned the Great Hall, giving it the appearance of a winter wonderland. There was also a great deal of excitement among the students from all three schools, their own last minute preparations going underway.

When the day came though, the level of ongoing preparations in the Slytherin girls' dorm exploded tenfold. Personally, Anya found all this frivolity unnecessary, but when Astoria and Davis tugged her sleeves with pleading looks in their eyes, she relented. After all, one of the reasons she agreed to come here was to relax from the routines that had become so ingrained in her life, what better way to relax than to join in the cheerful festivities? Nathaniel was probably right, she ought to take the opportunity to act like a girl her age.

"Come on, Anya!" Astoria squealed. "I wanna see what dress you're going to wear for the Ball."

"You're going to see it during the Ball regardless," Anya smiled as the second-year dragged her to the dorms where most of the girls had started preparing for the Ball.

"Tori, I see you've finally brought our champion to begin fulfilling her role," the elder Greengrass remarked, halfway through applying her makeup. Anya's friendship with the elder Greengrass' boyfriend and younger sister had paved the way for friendly relations.

"I thought my role as champion was to compete in the Tournament?" Anya quipped, digging into her trunk for the dress robes that Nathaniel had gotten her.

"No, your role as champion now is to look pretty for the Ball," Davis said excitedly.

"I think I preferred the original role," Anya said jokingly as she pulled out the packaging

"In society, it’s the popular opinion that's more important," Astoria said, eyes alight with anticipation as she saw the wrapped packaging. "Hurry up, Anya, I want to see."

With an exasperated sigh, Anya gently opened the packaging, revealing the dress inside. There were days where Anya could swear that Nathaniel came from an upper class Pureblood family, this was one of them.

"Sweet Merlin," Astoria squealed. "That's beautiful."

It was an elegant white dress, made of radiant satin that seemed impossibly smooth. Around the dress, floral patterns were woven artfully into the cloth, it wasn't excessive, just enough for people to notice. The long sleeves and high cut design did a wonderful job of covering up her various scars. There were no frills or loose pieces, everything was meant to fit snugly on her body, both to accentuate her curves and allow ease of movement. Nathaniel never lost his sense of practicality.

There were glass shoes, diamond earrings and necklace to go along with the dress, though she did recognise the necklace as one that belonged to a corrupt Russian ministry official. Old man Grey probably restricted the budget on her dress, not that she minded. The silver cuffs that were part of the package also did a clever job of hiding the runic script on her wrist. The whole set was simple yet elegant, Nathaniel's style.

At the bottom of the package there was a small note, Anya picked it up and read through it.

_ Hope you are having fun, missing you. Send pictures. _

__

_ -D & J _

Anya smiled fondly making a mental note to do so, but the incessant chattering of Astoria and Davis forced her attention back on preparing for the Ball. Soon, Anya had to go through a three hour long preparation regime. She would rather spend her time doing something else, but she decided to take it in stride with a smile, she was supposed to relax after all.

"Yes! I get to do up your hair," Astoria chirped, holding onto a hairbrush. "You always wear your hair in that same old ponytail, it'll be nice to see your hair in another style."

"Simple is good."

"Not for a ball it isn't."

She looked at the mirror and saw a new sight. This was probably the first time she wore her hair in anything but her signature low ponytail. Her hair was twisted into an elegant braid and this was also probably the first time makeup had ever found its way to her face. The makeup had been light, she insisted on it – much to the annoyance of Astoria – but she couldn't deny that the mascara and lipstick did a good job enhancing her looks.

"Now for the dress!" Astoria clapped, reaching for the dress Nathaniel got for her, she leaned to Anya and whispered. "Where are you going to keep that pistol of yours in this dress?"

"I'm not, Professor Moody and that eye of his will be there," Anya whispered back.

"Alright, but remember, I want to try using it sometime soon."

When all was done, the girls examined Anya's bearing for any discrepancies.

"Absolutely striking," Astoria said enviously. "Too bad only fourth-years and above are allowed to the Yule Ball."

Anya made her way to the common room where Zabini, Nott and Daphne were waiting.

"Damn it, Seryy," Zabini said with a pout as he saw the raven-haired girl. "Why do you have to make me regret my choices."

Everyone laughed and began making their way to the Great Hall, Nott and Daphne in each other's arms. Zabini separated halfway to head to the Durmstrang ship to pick up his date.

When they reached the Entrance Hall, Anya's partner was there waiting for her. He was tall, average looking, but his confidence, grace and poise more than made up for that, he carried himself well. In his light-blue dress robes - school pride, Anya suspected - he strode over to Anya and bowed, taking her hand to his lips.

"Ms Seryy, a pleasure and an honour," he spoke with an accent.

"Likewise," Anya replied, hoping that she never had to say his name tonight, she really did forgot her partner's name.

"All the champions and their partners are here?" Professor McGonagall asked as she surveyed the group. "Very well, you may all proceed. Pair by pair into the Great Hall, everyone is waiting for the opening of the Ball."

Anya took a quick look at the champions. Krum was with Hermione, who really cleaned up well in Anya's opinion. Delacour went with a seventh-year who Anya guessed to be the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain. Cedric was with - to Zabini's prior disappointment - Cho Chang. The other Junior Champions, Poitiers and Dulovo, followed Jen's route and went with partners from different schools. Harry and Cedric were the only champions to take a partner from their own school, with Harry going out with one of the Patil twins.

As the champions entered the Great Hall, they stared in mesmerised awe at the decorations in place. It seemed to be snowing and the chandeliers were carved from ice, the candles adorning it lighting the Hall in a warm glow.

Anya's partner turned to her with a smile.

"Merry Yule."

"Merry Yule," Anya replied.


	10. Yule Part 3

Chapter 10 – Yule Part 3

Rosemary and thyme. Salt and pepper. Seasoned to perfection and slowly cooked until butter knife tender. The succulent lamb roast Anya was eating tasted simply marvellous, the house-elves in Hogwarts were really going all out for the Yule Ball. There was chatter all over the Great Hall as people made new friends or simply hung out with old ones.

When the meal ended and the dances started, everyone was eager to begin. Anya's Beauxbatons partner was simply bounding with anticipation as he ushered Anya onto the dance floor, Andre Lannes was his name, she managed to pick that snippet up during her meal. Once again, Anya was glad she chose a Beauxbatons partner, not only was the conversation simple and easy due to a language barrier but he – like most of the other Beauxbatons students – knew how to dance very well.

Hogwarts had offered last minute dancing lessons to all students from the fourth-year and above, but it seemed more like an entertainment session for the Purebloods who were already taught dancing from young and a torture session for majority of the Muggleborns and Half-bloods who were fumbling their way through. Zabini even had the audacity to sneak in the popcorn he had procured from a Muggle store before the term started, keeping them preserved with a Stasis Charm.

Once again, this was one of the times Anya swore Nathaniel came from a Pureblood family, dancing and etiquette had been part of the training she and the others had received, much to all their confusion as they never really used it. Here, she let her Beauxbatons partner take the lead, moving along to the beat of the music and actually taking the time to enjoy the melodious movements she was going through.

"By the way, Ms Seryy," Lannes said as they did another spin. "Fleur has requested that you meet her tomorrow morning, at the Beauxbatons carriage."

"She got the golden egg figured out?" Anya asked.

"It appears so."

Anya cast an eye at the French Champion, seeing the part-Veela dance along with a drooling Ravenclaw.

"Very well. Thank you, Mr Lannes."

"The least I could do," he flashed a dazzling smile.

Soon, the two agreed to separate to find their friends, going to opposite ends of the Great Hall. She passed by a dancing Nott and Greengrass, reaching an empty seat in the corner and settled down with a drink in hand.

"Well what's our dear champion doing all by herself?" a familiar mocking voice reached her ears.

"Enjoying the scene," she replied smoothly, looking at the approaching Zabini. "Really now, Zabini? Two?"

The charming Slytherin had a girl in each of his arms, both of them giggling giddily.

"What's wrong with that?" he shrugged nonchalantly. "The more the merrier."

"Say that with a straight face the next time you end up in the Hospital Wing."

The sound of a click and flash caught Anya's attention and she saw Collin Creevey wandering around with his camera, a grumpy looking fourth-year Hufflepuff – his unfortunate date presumably – following her. Seeing the camera, she remembered something.

"Creevey," Anya called out, waving at the Gryffindor. "Mind taking a picture? I'll gladly pay you for the photos."

The third-year's face split into a wide grin as he ambled over, preparing his camera.

"No problem Seryy, I'll do it for free," he said happily. "It's a hobby after all."

"A hobby he priorities over his date," Zabini muttered quietly to Anya. "Of course a filthy Mudblood would behave like this."

"Okay," Anya ignored the Slytherin's words. "I want mine by the end of this week if that's possible."

However, Zabini would never say no to a free photograph and agreed to have a picture taken. Anya, Zabini and the two Durmstrang girls stood in front of the camera, smiles on their face as the flash went off.

"Nice," Creevey exclaimed. "Seryy, how about a photo with Harry!? Hogwarts champions taking a group photo. I can't find Cedric though."

Before Anya could respond, the bubbly Gryffindor went over to a nearby table and began speaking to Harry. Harry seemed all too glad to have an excuse to leave the table, the irate and sulky Weasley behind him being a possible reason to his compliance.

"So Seryy, Hogwarts champions photo, huh?" Harry inquired, trying to relax himself into a smile.

"Nah, it was Creevey's idea," said Anya as she watched the young Gryffindor prepare his camera for another shot. "I didn't mind having a souvenir for tonight's event. Maybe we ought to get Diggory here?"

"No need to," Harry said quickly, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

Anya scanned through the crowd of dancers and picked up the Hufflepuff quickly, he was dancing with a smiling Cho Chang. It appears Zabini wasn't the only one who wanted to go out with the Ravenclaw, although Zabini did handle the rejection much better than Harry.

"Alright then. Creevey, fire away."

Creevey grinned as he pressed the shutter button and a flash went off once more. The two siblings stood side by side, one in a white dress, the other in green robes. Both of them had smiles on their faces as their identical emerald-green eyes wrinkled in festive joy.

They may have felt a little awkward, which they did, being shoved in for a photo by Creevey. However, if one were to look at the photos that Collin Creevey would soon produce, with the Gryffindor photographer handing Anya hers a few days later, the two siblings looked completely at ease and natural standing beside each other. As though they have been doing this for ages.

**XXXXX**

Anya stood outside the Beauxbatons carriage, waiting patiently. She did not mind waiting, being a user of a sniper rifle had taught her that it was alright to wait. She had waited for days in a swamp under heavy torturous rain for the opportunity to take a shot, this was comfortable by comparison.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms Seryy," the part-Veela's rich throaty voice filled the air. "But let us begin our discussion,  _ oui _ ?"

Anya nodded, turning to face Fleur.

"So, the Second Task. You figured out the golden egg?"

Fleur lips shifted into a smug smile as she set her hard-fought golden egg on the floor. She drew her wand and rapped the egg smartly, which opened. Inside the egg, it was completely hollow, but the walls within the egg were carved with line after line of magical formulas and runes. Numbers, letters and symbols adorned the walls.

“You are supposed to decipher all these?” Anya asked, inspecting the runes. “You could have asked me to help.”

“ _ Non _ ,” Fleur said, shaking her head. “Much of this is too complex for a fourth-year student, some of these runes are not taught until sixth-year, and the Arithmancy sequences are beyond the schooling syllabus.”

“Yeah, okay,” Anya said a little tartly. “So what did you figure out?”

Fleur took out pieces of parchment and showed them to Anya. Anya grabbed them and took a look, they were filled with various numbers, sketches and phrases.

“The first one I figured out is this,” Fleur pointed to a parchment with a rough sketch of lines and curves, with dots and shadings here and there. Upon closer inspection, the entire sketch was made up of tiny numbers. “I deciphered the main Arithmancy figures and came to this.”

“It’s a map,” Anya had seen Arithmancy-encoded information before, deciphering them was usually Jen’s job, hers was doing the runic counterparts.

“ _ Oui _ ,” Fleur nodded. “But of where, I do not know. But it must be the location of the Second Task.”

“Forbidden Forest.”

“ _ Je vous demande pardon _ ?”

“The area boundaries on this side of the map exactly matches the treeline on the northwest side of the Hogwarts grounds,” Anya said, recalling her walk with Astoria. She always took the opportunity to observe her surroundings closely whenever possible. “If these curves indicate roads and streams, then it also matches the pathways and streams I’ve seen entering the Forbidden Forest.”

“Then what do the other dots and shadings on the map mean?”

“Beats me,” Anya shrugged. “Possibly denser vegetation, magical traps or even nesting grounds of whatever the Forbidden Forest hides.”

“Very well, then there is also this,” Fleur pointed to the next piece of parchment that she had worked out. It was a line of runes, written in the Frenchwoman’s cursive script.

“Twelve Labours of Heracles,” Anya muttered as she read the runes.

" _ Oui _ , the runes that formed this were scattered throughout the egg, I had to use various Arithmancy techniques to find them," Fleur shifted her finger to the number she wrote next to the runes. "When I inspected the locations of each individual runes, I realised that they formed the number three multiple times, if you connected each rune as a dot. Too many times to be coincidence"

"The third labour?"

"Correct Seryy, capture the Ceryneian Hind. I expect that we have to some creature to catch or maybe a conjured magical entity instead."

"The next question is," Anya mused. "Are there three teams or four? It won't be fair for everyone else if Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter worked together. But it wouldn't be fair for the Durmstrang Junior Champion to support two teams simultaneously."

"Did the Hogwarts Champions work together for the First Task?" Fleur's question was an answer itself.

"Poor Dulovo, this is much harder for him if all champions do this task at the same time."

"Indeed," the part-Veela agreed. "But we digress."

Fleur shuffled through the parchments to pick out another piece.

"This one was the easiest to decipher: the old catches, the young protects."

"So each team has their own 'Ceryneian Hind' and has to catch the other teams 'Ceryneian Hind'?" Anya concluded. "Champions are to catch, Junior Champions are to protect?"

"That seems to be the case, although there are still many unknown variables. Is this 'Ceryneian Hind' a stationary entity or does it move on its own? What are the Junior Champions allowed to do in order to protect?"

“What the plan then, Delacour?”

“The main problem is whether or not duelling is allowed. Seryy, are you good at duelling?” Fleur asked doubtfully, eyeing the younger girl as though inspecting her for any flaws.

“Good enough.”

“I would recommend practicing a little on duelling just in case. Other than that, you could read up on some Charms or Transfiguration spells that may aid you in setting up defences. Or maybe runes too, I’ve heard of your work in the First Task from my friends.”

“I’ll have it covered,” Anya said in assurance. “What about you?”

“Forgive me Seryy,” Fleur said with a haughty smile. “Since I would rather have a Beauxbatons victory in this Triwizard Tournament, I cannot risk having you know my plans and possibly leaking them out to the Hogwarts Champions.”

“So much for international cooperation,” Anya laughed. “Though that is fair, I expect all the other Champions to have this mentality. You’re already giving me a lot of information to work with, explaining what the Second Task could involve. Personally,if I were in your shoes and I wanted to completely keep this under wraps, I would just tell you what to do without any explanation whatsoever.”

“Well, I would rather have my partner in this task know what she is supposed to do,” Fleur said breezily as she stowed away her pieces of parchment and the egg. “Furthermore, I’ve seen the Hogwarts Champions. I can completely trust them to be honourable and follow the rules-“

“And not tell me a single thing as I’m not their partner for this task,” Anya finished her sentence with an easy grin. “I expect that you informed Poitiers of this before me.”

“Well, as much as how I would rather be the one to win the Tournament, I do want a Beauxbatons victory at the end.”

“Completely understandable. Well, if that is all, I suppose I should get started on the preparations?”

Nodding her head, Fleur turned about and returned to the Beauxbatons carriage, leaving Anya to herself.

**XXXXX**

“Well, I suppose that’s all there is to the golden egg,” Hermione sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Merlin, this thing is a challenge to crack.”

“Thanks Hermione, you’re a lifesaver,” Harry grinned, looking at all the clues that Hermione had managed to siphon off the golden egg. Looking at what he had to do though, it was much less dangerous than facing off the Hungarian Horntail. Whoever had placed his name in the Goblet would not be getting his hopes up in having Harry killed in this Second Task. Compared to a dragon’s claws, tails and fiery breath, a huge game of Capture the Flag but with moving flags was a lot tamer. Granted, the other champions were still a threat, as Ron had so adamantly pointed out.

“Remember what Sirius said,” Ron reminded Harry. “You’re gonna have to watch out for the Durmstrang champions, who knows what Dark Magic Karkaroff would have taught them? Can we even trust that Dulovo guy?”

“Ron!” Hermione admonished the red-head. “The whole point of having the Junior Champions be partners with other schools for some of the tasks is to foster international relations, trust is essential.”

“I’m just saying mate,” Ron replied, holding his hands up in surrender. “The whole Durmstrang lot seems shady.”

“Alright,” said Hermione wearily as she looked through what she had gathered from the golden egg. “Let’s go through this logically. You should be safe from the other Champions, they’ll be busy doing their own catching. It’s the Junior Champions that you have to watch out for, so let’s start with the Beauxbatons Junior Champion, what do we know about him? The First Task can be a good indication for his abilities.”

“Other than being a great chef? Nothing,” said Ron bluntly, causing Harry to snigger.

“There’s more than that,” said Hermione sharply. “He has to be adept in Potions to create an obscure potion that enhances the smell of foods. And the bag the Beauxbatons’ Champion was carrying for the First Task had been magically expanded as well, so Charms is possibly another one of his aces.”

“Potions and Charms,” Harry mused. “Shouldn’t be too bad.”

“It’s the Slytherin you got to watch out for,” Ron pointed out.

That was definitely true, comparing the French and Russian Junior Champions, the latter gave a more lasting impression of being dangerous. The incident with Crabbe and Goyle was clear evidence to that. On top of that, she had been the only one besides Harry himself to throw off the Imperius Curse in Moody’s class.

“We should expect some runic defence from her,” Hermione theorised. “Her item during the First Task was incredible. I heard from Professor McGonagall that she excels in Transfiguration too, so expect that too.”

“It wasn’t that fancy,” said Ron dismissively.

“But that was a high-level application of Runes, Ron,” Hermione exclaimed. “Runes capable of creating and reacting with magic – Active Runes – are not even taught until NEWTs. OWL-level studies of Runes only involve translation and theory.”

“So I go for the one Poitiers is defending first?” said Harry thoughtfully. “Then if that works out, I go for others?”

“Sounds about it,” Hermione concluded.

**XXXXX**

The soft thumps of Anya's magically silenced pistol filled Astoria's ears, she looked on as the elder Slytherin fired round after round precisely into the levitating water balloons that acted as makeshift targets. They were at a secluded corner of the Hogwarts grounds, hidden by bushes and trees.

"You see the posture? Feet apart, left foot forward and body bent a little forward. Never lean backwards," Anya explained as she maintained her stance. "You can extend your arms to a comfortable position but don't lock your elbows. Firm grip on the pistol, lock your wrist."

Anya handed her Makarov to the excited girl and ushered her forward in encouragement. Astoria mimicked Anya's stance and lifted the pistol, peering through the sights. She was taught the basics of operating this Muggle device a few minutes ago and found it to be very simple. There were no complex formulas or theories involved like a curse, you simply slide in a box of what Anya called 'bullets' into the device, 'cock' the thing by pulling the top part of it and then you simply pulled on the lever to fire. With this, even a child could kill a person.

"Turn off the safety then align the sights," Anya instructed. "Once you got that, slowly pull the trigger. Trigger pull is important in a good aim, the pistol shouldn't be moving when you pull. Control your breathing too, rule of thumb is shoot when you finished exhaling."

Astoria focused on the water balloon in front of her and took aim, trying to calm down her excited breathing.

"That's not controlling your breathing," Anya remarked plainly as she took out small pieces of wood and began etching them with sigils and runes.

"I'm trying, I'm trying."

Slowly, she placed her finger on the trigger and began to pull. When the propellant ignited, the recoil – though mostly absorbed by magic – took her by surprise, causing her to let out a small gasp. Twenty feet away, a red water balloon ruptured.

"Wow," said Astoria softly. "Just like that."

"Just like that," Anya nodded, keeping an eye on the girl while she worked on her pieces of wood. "Even a child could use it."

Anya took out a small box from her robes, it was the size of an earring box. She drew her wand and enlarged it, opening the box revealed rows of bullets ready to be used.

"It's a weekend and we have the time," Anya told the younger Slytherin. "You wanted to try out the pistol. Use it to your heart's content."

Astoria let out a wide grin as she went back to the water balloons, raising the pistol once more. Soon, the thumps of the pistol became a constant as Astoria emptied magazine after magazine. She had to admit it, Muggles really did know how to invent interesting things. Maybe they were not as bad as what her family and friends made them to be.

"This is kind of refreshing actually," Astoria exclaimed as she returned the pistol back to Anya. "I didn't think that Muggles can come up with this. Without using magic too."

"You'd be surprised at what Muggles know that wizards don't," said Anya absentmindedly, carving another rune on a wooden block.

"And what are you doing?" Astoria peeked over Anya's shoulders to see what the older girl was doing. "Is that preparation for the Second Task?"

"Yep."

"You figured out what's going on?" Astoria asked smilingly. "Care to share?"

"Sworn to secrecy."

"Prat."

"Relax, Astoria, the Task is just a game of Capture the Flag."

"Can you tell me what you're doing?"

Anya passed over one of her finished wooden blocks for Astoria to inspect. It was completely carved in runes and a slight tremor of magic could be felt. Drawing her wand, Anya turned the wooden block into a swiftlet, which began to fly in circles above the pair.

"That's pretty," Astoria commented, eyeing the bird which still bore the same runic markings as its original form. "But what does it do?"

"I was impressed by Potter's performance in the First Task," Anya explained. "And then I realised that there are three top-notch Quidditch players among the Champions, the only who isn't is paired with me. Needless to say, I do not wish for any of them to go use a broomstick for this Task."

"So Anti-broomstick spells embedded in the runes? And transfigured into birds to follow Diggory, Potter and Krum." Astoria was now closely inspecting the runes of another wooden block Anya had finished carving. "You really inspire me to take up Runes next year. Maybe I should take the same electives as you, Muggle Studies and Runes."

"Let me ask you a question," said Astoria curiously, looking at the pistol still by Anya's side. "If Muggle weaponry and technology is so good, why didn't you use them to aid the Champions in the First Task?"

It had been very tempting to just do that during the First Task. The runic distraction Anya made was the second idea she came up with. Her first idea that came to mind involved Transfiguration, Strengthening Solution and batch of thermite or explosives. Or maybe, she could have pulled off a Nathaniel, hijacking a fighter jet from the nearest military airbase to combat an enraged dragon. However, it was general consensus among the Spooks not to blatantly give up their cards to normal wizards.

"Use highly dangerous equipment made by Muggles in a highly publicised event?" Anya laughed, shaking her head. "The press will have a field day and the Purebloods in the Ministry will start sharpening their knives. I'd rather keep the Muggle tools to myself."

"Keeping an advantage to yourself?"

"Aren't you in Slytherin?"

"True," Astoria chuckled. "What else do you have planned?"

"Nothing much really, I'm in charge of defending" Anya shrugged as she set down a finished wooden block and picked up another one. She reapplied dragon's blood – procured on request as a Junior Champion – on her silver knife and continued her carving. "Maybe a few wards and the rest will probably go down to duelling with the Champions if that's allowed."

"You can duel?"

"Well, I've been in fights."

The watch on Anya's wrist indicated that dinner was approaching and she ended the conversation, reminding Astoria that they should probably head back to the castle. Packing her things, she took note of the box that was now half empty. She did the math in her head, Astoria used up ten magazines, that was eighty rounds. Astoria really didn't hold back when told to fire the pistol to her heart's content, Anya was going to have to write a letter back home asking for ammunition. Thankfully, Filch didn't know what bullets were.

Days went by as the Second Task edged nearer and nearer. Anya had spent a great deal of time sneaking off into the Forbidden Forest, not the part of it where the Second Task was going to be held, there was a good chance that place was crawling with Tournament officials and protective wards. She simply needed to acclimatise herself to the environment and build back her physical strength. She did go out for physical training once every week, it was a regimentation she enforced on herself, but when there's schoolwork to do, she could not afford the time to go on ten mile treks while carrying a full equipment load. Furthermore, the Forbidden Forest was a good place to practice her combat spells away from prying eyes.

" _ Diffindo. _ "

A swift flick of her wand lopped off the heads of two dummy figures she had transfigured. She had two dozen of them scattered throughout the area, charmed to move about, albeit not gracefully but rather in a drunken robotic fashion. The practice was simple, release the dummies and give them a five minutes head start, following which she proceeded to hunt them down. Even though she was tasked to defend whatever it was that the Tournament came up with, training with Vlad had ingrained her with the idea that offense is the best defence.

Sprinting through the woods, the trees on her periphery became a slight blur as she darted around, easily avoiding the barely noticeable potholes and protruding roots as she moved. Her eyes took in all the details of her surroundings, the tripping hazards, far away dummies and their trails left behind in the forest marked clearly by her right eye. The prints on the snow, an overturned stone on the ground and even the scraped bark on the tree trunk, all these were flashing traffic signs in Anya's eyes.

" _ Stupefy _ ."

The final spell tagged the stumbling dummy on the back, which toppled onto the ground. Wiping the sweat off her brow, she sat down on the ground and took a moment to catch her breath. After which, Anya went about cleaning up any traces that she had been there, reverting the dummies back to logs and repairing any noticeable damage on the trees. Nathaniel had been adamant in teaching his protégés to keep their tracks clean when necessary, a practice she continued here.

When the clean-up was done, she did a final check on her belongings before making her way back to the castle. A quick trip to her dorms for a shower and change of clothes had Anya refreshed and hungry for breakfast.

"Morning Seryy," Zabini greeted her as she took a seat beside him. "You've got an owl waiting for you."

The dark-skinned boy nodded his head to a tawny owl which had a letter attached to its leg, Anya plucked the letter from the owl and looked at it. It had her name on it, but the handwriting was familiar. She opened it and looked at the paper inside.

_ Greetings Anya. Watch out for our arrival to Britain, for we all miss you dearly. Danger in Russia has been at an all-time high but that's to be expected. Class has been well I take it? Ten of us back in Russia are wishing you the best for the Triwizard Tournament. Items that you wanted we have purchased and are sending over. Moved Nikolai to his new home yesterday, from the effort it took, Russia always reminds us of its vast size. To think that Greg always said Russia was small. Britain must be a nice place, beware the gnomes there though. Of Tournament tips just remember your stances of Stand, Crouch, and Prone as stances can always help you in a duel. Also, safe winds. Home is where your heart is, ready for the next challenge. _

The letter seemed fine and dandy, which meant it was absolute nonsense. Anya scanned through the letter again, cycling through the various codes they used until something logical came up. Something did and it had Dimitri written all over it, the code was crude and easily deciphered but Anya couldn't be bothered.

Anya read through the letter in mild concern, she certainly did not expect a Triwizard Tournament official to be importing highly illegal magical ingredients and components, most of which are used in dark rituals. Hoping dearly that those were for his personal use rather than for the Tournament, Anya kept the letter and pondered for a while. Mr Crouch, she was going to have to be careful of him.

**XXXXX**

"That's the last of them," Jen muttered as he pulled out the magazine from his rifle – a standard AK-47 – and inspected the remaining bullets. There was none, he stowed it in one of the pouches on his ballistic vest and loaded a fresh magazine into the rifle. The sulfurous smell of gunfire still permeated the air, so did the smell of charred furniture.

"Looks like it," Dimitri called out from the other end of the room, his wand drawn. He was busy vanishing the blood from the floors and walls. "Ten Muggles, three wizards, one of which was probably a Spook. Correct?"

"That's what I counted too."

They were in the Russian suburbs, inside a house that was suspected of storing high value magical items. Currently, the two boys were finishing their clean-up of the kitchen. Bullet casings, shattered plates and bullet-ridden pots littered the floor, awaiting Dimitri to vanish them. The bodies had already been cleaned up and stowed in bags.

"Just the basement left?" Jen asked as he inspected the photos hanging on the pink walls, they showed the typical happy family posed in front of the porch.

"Yep," the Russian replied. "It's empty though,  _ Homenum Revelio _ -ed it a minute ago. I think the only thing left are the wards."

Jen slung his rifle and drew his wand. "Very well, shall we?"

The pair began their work on the wards blocking entry to the basement, muttering incantations softly. Half a minute later and the wards broke, Jen opened the door and Dimitri began casting sensory spells down the stairway, checking for any traps or dangerous creatures.

"It's more or less clear," Dimitri declared, beginning to walk down the stairs with Jen on his tail.

"Sure wish Crow was with us."

"Of course you would," Dimitri chuckled. "But she's a thousand miles away in Scotland now."

" _ Lumos _ ."

Light flooded out of Jen's wand, illuminating the basement in a warm glow. Boxes filled the basement, many of them plastered with tags and labels. One particular box stood out to the pair, it had a long roll of parchment wrapped around it multiple times like a bandage, sigils and runes written on the parchment.

"Sure wish Anya was here to check this script," Dimitri cast a spell to check for any nasty surprises, nothing bad turned up. "Runes are her thing, she's the only person I know who's mad enough to do the rune carving on her own body herself, I needed Vlad to pin me down to get my runes on."

"In her defence, her runes are better than even Nathaniel's, and Grey doesn't do runic tattoos on us," Jen said as he inspected the symbols on the parchment, it was written in blood. "Try doing the feats of strength, agility and dexterity she does when she activates those runes, you can't. By the way, do you think it's safe to open this? You don't normally see a box sealed in blood runes, could be something bad."

"Then we better start erecting solid wards before we open this."

For the next ten minutes, the pair prepared temporary wards, carving out most of the basement walls in magical formulas. Once everything was set, the two stood a good fifteen feet away from the sealed box, hovering close to the staircase. Dimitri took aim and red sparks shot out from his wand, ripping open the parchment wrapped around the box and launching the cover of the box open. The wooden lid flipped open onto the floor with a loud clatter before an anticlimactic silence took over.

"That was underwhelming," Dimitri grumbled. "I thought there was a boggart in there, could have had some fun with it."

Jen edged closer to the box, wand at the ready. Peering over the box, he inhaled sharply at the sight.

"Not that underwhelming, Dim," Jen said. "Look at this."

Eyebrows furrowed, Dimitri walked over and took a look at the contents, whistling when he laid his eyes on them.

" _ Cyka blyat _ ," Dimitri muttered, shifting through the contents of the box. "We've got a dark wizard on the loose. Human heart, Basilisk venom... all four humors of a succubus and a hag... Unicorn blood, Mandrake roots... vials of whatever-the-hell-this-is... is that a jar of fucking  _ ovaries _ !? That's a fucking impressive ingredients package for a dark ritual."

"The Whites are really pulling the damn strings to assemble this," Jen said. "You need more than galleons to purchase this, you need favours, connections or allegiance. Who's got the Whites this deep in their pockets?"

"Check the box for any labels," Dimitri said sharply. The two sprang into action, inspecting every corner of the box for clues to its receiver.

"Arithmancy codes here," Dimitri called out as he scanned the lid on the box that they removed minutes ago. "This is all yours, Jen."

Jen grabbed the lid from Dimitri, inspecting the string of numbers and symbols. He transcribed a copy of the number on a piece of paper just in case the original on the lid got ruined. Wand in hand, he began decoding the numbers on the lid, figures unfolding and spreading on the wooden surface. The numbers slowly expanded in length until four sets of numbers and letters were produced.

"GPS coordinates," Dimitri observed. "This definitely has a Spook involved, no normal wizards encode destinations with GPS coordinates and Muggles can't do Arithmancy. Four results though, which one is it?"

Already punching in the results in his GPS, Jen took a look at the possibilities.

"First one ends up in the middle of nowhere in Mozambique. Second one doesn't exist on this planet unless you can get a latitude of over two hundred degrees north. Third one ends in a village in Essex, Britain. Fourth one ends in the southern coast of Singapore."

"Second ones out," Jen stated. "Unless it's a damn clever code or the coordinates itself is another layer of Arithmancy encryption."

"Singapore is out," Dimitri said gruffly. "Their National Ward Grid is too tight to smuggle in, expected for a small country, and both their Muggle and Magical governments are incorruptible."

"You would know," Jen laughed, shaking his head at an old memory. "Mozambique though? Unlikely, the ingredients in this box aren't what their brand of dark wizards normally favour."

"Britain?" Dimitri murmured. "That's a possibility, they did help the Whites back in the Uprising, and the coordinates actually show a village unlike the others."

The two seemed to be in deep thought before Dimitri broke the silence.

"Hold it! Isn't there a high-ranking British Ministry official living in Essex? Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

"How do you know that?" Jen asked suspiciously.

"Same damn reason the person who got us into Azerbaijan undetected knows about all the high-ranking international magical relations personnel, it's my fucking job. That's how I got us into Azerbaijan and all the other countries, know the people you're dealing with."

"Isn't the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation for Britain involved in the Triwizard Tournament?" Jen's face stiffened, Dimitri was not far off too, catching up to the Asian's conclusion quickly.

"We're going to have to send an owl to Anya."


	11. Second Task

Chapter 11 – Second Task

"Ladies and gentlemen," Bagman's magically amplified voice rang across the Forbidden Forest. "Welcome, to the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament!"

Up above the trees, the roar of excitement thundered from the multiple orange dirigibles floating about, the obscenely large gondola cabins packed with so many spectators magic had to be involved in keeping the dirigibles airborne. Anya took her eyes off the crowded skies to accept the Auror-grade dragonhide coat and gloves that a lanky Tournament official was giving her. As Junior Champion, safety measures were put in place in a task where they had to physically put themselves in danger, dragonhide gear offered a decent degree of protection from spells and was tough enough to stop sharp objects from piercing through. In addition to that, she was given an emergency escape portkey as well, just in case.

Pulling on the dragonhide, Anya took her place next to Fleur, who had a determined look on her face. Much like the First Task, the Beauxbatons Champion was dressed in a tracksuit, the preferred choice of clothing for most champions. Anya opted for what was familiar, favouring her usual operations garb sans ballistic vest. The part-Veela looked at her as asked in a strained voice. "Are you ready, Ms Seryy?"

"As I'll ever be," said Anya crisply, tugging on the edges of the gloves. She surveyed the ground, the night before had brought a blizzard onto Hogwarts. A thick layer of snow now blanketed the ground, movement will be difficult.

"For this task," said Bagman merrily. "Our champions are to split into three teams, each with a magically conjured Ceryneian Hind. The goal is simple, the Champions are to catch the Hinds from the other teams and the Junior Champions are to defend their Hinds. Points will be given not based on how many of the other Champions’ Hinds they are able to catch but rather on how well they perform."

Duelling was allowed too, Anya remembered that nugget of information during the brief earlier. Her grip on her wand tightened, it had been a long time since she got in action. A slight grin of excitement managed to worm its way into her face. The two female champions made their way onto a stone circle in the Forbidden Forest, it was their starting position. In the centre of it stood a Hind, it was magically conjured, a floating vapour of blue and gold mist, vaguely resembling a Patronus. The hind cantered towards Anya and she noticed an amulet held in its mouth, or rather the vapour that was in place of a mouth. It tipped its head and dropped the amulet onto Anya's hand, this was what Bagman had briefed the Junior Champions about.

" _Alright, Junior Champions, you will each be provided with an amulet from your Hind. Now, the beautiful amulets given allows you to give basic control over the Hind and allows you to know its location as well. This will aid you in the task of defending your Hind from the Champions. And rest assured, other champions will not be able to use the amulet you receive._

_As for the Champions, the amulet you receive will only reveal the locations of all Hinds once every nineteen minutes for one minute, so don’t go relying too much on them._ "

Anya inspected the item in her hand, it was finely crafted, a large polished crystal surrounded by intricately twisted bronze. On the crystal there was a glowing red glowing dot, pointing towards the Hind. Anya walked around the Hind and the dot shift to keep pointing towards the magical construct.

"Move," Anya muttered softly, the Hind obeyed, starting a trot around the two champions.

"Now, the champions have an hour of hardship and stiff competition ahead of them," Bagman declared. "May the best pair win!"

The sound of a blowing horn resonated across the trees, signalling the start of the Second Task. Anya opened the pouch she brought with her, revealing the wooden blocks she had prepared within it. Waving her wand, she activated the runes on them and transfigured them into swiftlets, which started to dart across the trees and into the forest. Fleur took off into the woods, casting a clever charm to keep the snow in stasis, allowing her to walk on top of the snow rather than trudge through it.

"And they are off, with Krum, Diggory and Potter opening with a Summoning Charm. Clearly, Potter's performance in the First Task was clearly an inspiration, the Summoning Charms are off and the three Champions are waiting."

Anya's guess was right, using broomsticks in a wide-area search would definitely have been the other Champions' first choice, she would have done that herself had she been in their shoes. Turning to the Hind, she began to lace the sentient vapour with various spells. Disillusionment Charm, Notice-Me-Not Charm, Silencing Charm and Shield Charm. Lastly, she took out another set of wooden blocks with runic carvings. One transfiguration spell later and there was a small flock of sparrows circling the Hind. The ward system was simple, any magical presence entering the 'circle' of sparrows would trigger a wide-area Freezing Charm, hopefully putting the intruder in a stasis.

"The three Champions are really showing their speed on a broomstick," Bagman's jovial voice reared itself up once again. "Just what you'd expect from three seekers. Look at them weave about the trees, inhuman reflexes right there!"

Those words piqued Anya's curiosity, the Forbidden Forest was old, ancient even, and the trees were densely packed. At best, there were a few clearings and gaps in the woods that could be picked out by a pair of omniculars, especially in winter where most of the leaves have fallen. But there was still enough cover that closely observing multiple high-speed broomsticks moving through the woods could no longer exist within the realm of physical possibility. Anya had the strange yet familiar sensation of being watched. Heeding that sensation, she cast her eyes about, looking for anything out of the ordinary. She found something hovering up in the trees, a wriggling ball of yellow and turquoise lines. The colour was new, but the movement and structure was not. She had seen it multiple times before, an Observation Charm and Tracking Charm combined. No wonder Bagman was able to keep a close commentary on them, the charms were likely linked to a screen somewhere in the dirigibles. However, making the commentary audible to the champions as well was a downright questionable in Anya's books.

"Oh! You better watch out there Mr Diggory, that was a close call with that Doxy swarm. But that was a clean recovery and- Sweet Merlin! Did his broom just fail him right there? It seems to be disabled, Diggory is losing control and- Ohhhh... ploughed right onto the snow."

Questionable it may be, but Anya was gladly appreciating the information Bagman was pumping down, it seems the swiftlets did their job and there were more threats than just other champions. Even from the ground, Anya could make out the faint sound of the spectators screaming from the airships above.

"Goodness, it's not just Diggory, Krum and Potter are both forced to make an emergency descent. Their brooms are failing too, just what is going on here!?"

_Breathe in, count to four. Hold, count to four. Breathe out, count to four. Hold, count to four._

Points were given on how well they perform. In other words, simply standing about as a Junior Champion would not do for Anya. This competition was as much an entertainment to the masses as it was a method to foster international relations, which meant that points were given on how flashy and entertaining they could be. To Anya, going on the offense definitely provided a better outlet to entertain her audience. Sitting around trying to wow the people with fanciful defensive charms while the older students do a more active role in the task was not advantageous.

"Follow, but keep a distance. Stay low. Should I be rendered unable to fight, run away from anyone you sense," she muttered to her amulet. Casting a Disillusionment Charm on herself and a Silencing Charm on her boots, she dashed into the woods with the Hind obediently following her.

**XXXXX**

Mihail Dulovo was pissed, this task certainly was not fair. He had half a mind to complain fiercely to Professor Karkaroff after this, the Hogwarts Champions were pushing him to the edge, and they would have had Krum not given him a solid heads-up on the Second Task. Trying to prepare a solid defence for two Champions had been an excruciatingly suffocating task. Furthermore, it had to be done within the same time frame, forcing him to run from Potter's starting point to Diggory's.

Now that Diggory's Hind finally had its protections set up, the Bulgarian took a step back to inspect his work. The Hind was covered in a thick brown goo and emitting a sinister hum, promising certain bodily harm should anyone try to catch it without caution. Now all that's left to do was wait, and relocate Diggory's Hind should his Intruder Charm sound off. Dulovo could not bring himself to care about Potter's Hind, let the other Champions catch it for all he cared. The Bulgarian was insistent that Potter had cheated his way into the Tournament and having putting the British in a disadvantage was justice in his eyes.

"And just what is the plan of our female champions?" the sound of the commentary reaching his ears. "Ms Seryy seems to be adopting a rather unorthodox strategy, I certainty can't fathom what she's doing. And for Ms Delacour, she does really seem to be doing quite the opposite. She's just standing there... unless- OH! That certainly is unique, but it rather is the obvious choice to take when searching for something in a large forest.

Well... she's got it. Or at least I think she does... no she's definitely got it! She's sprinting off right now and certainly in the right direction, somebody better be prepared for her!"

Dulovo was sure those words had thrown Poitiers into mental overdrive, because it certainly did just that to him. He pointed his wand into the trees, eyes darting around, trying to pick out the slightest disturbance.

"Krum and Potter seem to be having a more difficult time searching the Hind, and Diggory has created quite a creative solution. Very smart, just like the First Task, and it might just work out. It's close, very close and- Yikes! That's just too bad, but how did she even notice those- Merlin, she is fast, very fast! She's running now and... she's running _towards_ Diggory?"

A few moments after those words, Dulovo could hear multiple sharp cracks of spells impacting against rocks, trees and Shield Charms. The fight was near, he could tell from the volume of the noises made. Diggory was engaged in a duel, and if he was to show up as reinforcement, the two of them could take down the Delacour woman. This would definitely lessen the number of threats he would face, he turned to the direction of the noise and rushed off. But without even a single step taken, Dulovo found himself unable to move, his initial forward movement providing the momentum to topple face first onto the floor.

" _Bonjour mon cher_ ," Fleur's smooth voice filled Dulovo's ears. "Thank you for turning your back to me."

Frantically trying to scream at the amulet, Dulovo realised he was unable to speak, Fleur had added a Tongue-Tying Curse and a Silencing Charm in addition to her Full Body-Bind Curse for good measure. The Durmstrang Junior Champion was very confused, just how was she able to either escape or defeat Diggory and make her way to his rear within seconds. Fleur turned her attention away from Dulovo and focused on the goo laden Hind, trying to come up with a solution to get past the defences Dulovo had established.

"A desperate dodge from Diggory, he can't get his bearings straight- Wait a moment, Delacour seems to have gotten to Dulovo. It was a smart move on her part, using nature-based scrying to find the Hind in a forest. Yes, he's incapacitated, she working on the Hind now. Can she get past the Durmstrang Junior Champion's defen- Mother of Merlin! That move from Seryy! Brilliant application of Transfiguration there! Diggory is having a taste of his own antidote!"

That was when Dulovo realised Diggory's opponent had not been Fleur, the sounds of spells coming from the distance came from Anya.

"She's got the senior Hogwarts Champion pinned, those bats sure are nasty and- Yes, there it is! A quick Stunning Spell from Diggory- Misses! What was that movement from Seryy? That's an interesting stance to dodge an enemy spell in a duel. Ladies and gentlemen, who would have thought that lying prone on the ground could be a viable stance in a duel? Hold it, Delacour seems to be cracking it. Almost got it. Wow! The female team seems to be truly putting on a show for us."

Dulovo watched in horror as Fleur's face split into a triumphant grin, finally able to vanish the goo stuck on the Hind.

**XXXXX**

Taking a deep breath, Harry stole a peek at the Marauders' Map ensuring that the tree hollow hid the map from the sight of whatever it was that kept track of him. He was so grateful he had Sirius for both suggesting this idea and partly creating the map he was now using. All it took was a Sticking Charm on the Firebolt and his navigation problem was solved, although he had to hide it deep in the bristles of the Firebolt to keep it away from prying eyes.

Following the plan, he would go after the Hind Poitiers was protecting first. After that was done, he dreaded the next thing that would come up. From Bagman's commentary, it seemed as though Cedric's Hind had already been captured. That would leave him having to go up against Anya, not something he was fond of, especially after hearing her take down Cedric.

Then again, not like he actually needed to. As much as how Ron claimed that Harry had a good chance at winning the Tournament, staying alive was still the main priority.

**XXXXX**

Apparently, Disillusionment Charms did not stop whatever spell the Tournament officials used to see the champions. Anya gathered that much from the commentary, it had to be the amulet that they provided that was responsible for this. As she moved through the woods, she spotted several bats flying around as well. Those bats were tiny and well hidden among the trees but Anya spotted them immediately and knew that those were the work of another champion. Her sight perceived them to be a woven sheet of Transfiguration magic glowing bright as day, someone had either conjured those or transfigured them from nearby objects. Filtering through the list of champions, she shortlisted the suspect to Cedric, the only champion to have used Transfiguration during the First Task.

The bats were likely scouts, programmed to lead Cedric to any of the Hind or champions they find. That was a problem, Disillusionment Charms does not conceal one from echolocation. How Diggory even had the foresight to use bats Anya did not know, or it could have been a big fat coincidence.

"Krum and Potter seem to be having a more difficult time searching the Hind, and Diggory has created quite a creative solution. Very smart, just like the First Task, and it might just work out. It's close, very close and-”

_Definitely Cedric, thank you very much Mr Bagman._

Anya wasted no time, a deft flick off her wand sent a Stunner to one of the bats which dropped onto the floor. Several Stunners soon followed in rapid succession, disabling the bats. She took note of the direction they came from and looked into the gaps in the trees, spotting Cedric walking with his disabled broomstick in hand. Without hesitation, Anya broke into a sprint, heading straight for Cedric.

“Yikes! That's just too bad, but how did she even notice those- Merlin, she is fast, very fast! She's running now and... she's running _towards_ Diggory?"

One final leap from Anya brought her over a bush of Devil’s Snare planted by the Tournament officials and she had a clear shot at Cedric.

“ _Stupefy,_ ” the words came out firmly as she took aim. The red jet of light exploded into sparks as it came into contact with Cedric, he had been smart enough to prepare a Shield Charm beforehand. Cedric immediately scrambled for cover, darting from tree to tree. It did not matter much to Anya though, her aim was good and her spells smashed against Cedric’s shields one after another with the same rapid fire she had used on his bats.

"A desperate dodge from Diggory, he can't get his bearings straight-”

It took a few moments before Cedric realised his foe was under concealment. He waved his wand wildly and sent paint splattering all over the place in hopes of landing some on Anya to reveal her location. Anya ducked behind a tree and responded by transfiguring the surrounding pine cones into bats which began to swarm Cedric, their wings batting against his face as the winged mammals dug their fangs in an attempt to bypass his Shield Charm that was the sole barrier between fang and skin.

“Mother of Merlin! That move from Seryy! Brilliant application of Transfiguration there! Diggory is having a taste of his own antidote!"

Cedric sprang into a frenzy, swinging his broomstick in an attempt to rid himself of the bats while his wand fired off a variety of spells, from Banishing Charms to Freezing Spells. Some of the bats began dropping and others were launched away from Cedric. Anya kept a distance, she was not planning on having to dodge any paint again, she also kept up the tempo, sending spell after spell at Cedric. The Hufflepuff clearly had a great deal of magical capacity, being able to keep his Shield Charm up the whole time.

"She's got the senior Hogwarts Champion pinned, those bats sure are nasty and- Yes, there it is! A quick Stunning Spell from Diggory-”

A sudden twist of his wrist and Cedric had a Stunner sent straight for Anya, her sustained spell fire giving him an idea of where to aim. Anya did not bother with a Shield Charm of her own, her various encounters in firefights and combat training with Vlad had taught her the immediate reaction to enemy fire. Hit the dirt and move to improve cover. Landing onto the snow, Anya rolled over to dodge the next Stunner which brought snow splashing up beside her. She shuffled over to flush against a tree, keeping her profile low while maintaining her salvo of spells. It was quite astounding what wonders a solid cover and small area of exposure can do against spells. The next two spells were not even a distraction to Anya, the Leg-Locker Curse smashing into the tree truck while the third Stunner flew by above her.

“Misses! What was that movement from Seryy? That's an interesting stance to dodge an enemy spell in a duel. Ladies and gentlemen, who would have thought that lying prone on the ground could be a viable stance in a duel?”

“ _Flipendo. Incarcerous. Stupefy._ ” Anya laid prone behind the trees as the spells flew from her wand in quick succession. The Knockback Jinx was the straw that broke the camel’s back, shattering Cedric’s Shield Charm and throwing him onto his back. Ropes from the next spell wrapped around his torso tightly, keeping him open for the Stunner that went straight into his chest.

“Wow! The female team seems to be truly putting on a show for us."

Anya climbed back onto her feet, moving over to throw a quick Disillusionment Charm over his unconscious body to prevent his partner from easily reviving him, not that she needed to. She checked her watch and found that almost half an hour had already gone by, she probably only had enough time to hunt another Champion down. In her opinion, the Tournament officials had placed too many Doxy swarms and Red Caps in the forest, at least she found out what the dots on the map Fleur had deciphered meant. There were a lot of dots on the map, a lot of trouble.

Up next would be Krum, he would be a challenge if Durmstrang's reputation in the Dark Arts were anything to go by. But if she was able to take him down as well, there would be no doubt that the judges would be impressed. With one last check at her surroundings and another check at her concealment spells, Anya ran into the thick blanket of trees once again.

As she searched, Anya entertained herself with Bagman's commentary. Apparently, a rough scuffle between Poitiers and Harry had broken out, with the use of a broomstick as a club being heavily hinted. With Dulovo down, Krum himself had secured Harry's Hind with ease. It was a good ten minutes of searching before Anya came across a set of footprints in the snow, she knelt down to inspect them. The prints were the size of an adult and its pattern seemed to have an ungainly gait to it. Krum had passed by here, and the tracks were still quite fresh.

" _Diffindo_ ," another Severing Charm from Anya lopped off the head of yet another dwarf-like Red Cap that had been stalking her, a bone club in its pudgy hands. They had been immensely annoying, their acute sense of smell negating her concealment spells. Following the trail soon led Anya to a small clearing where she stopped abruptly. She saw cords of magic coiling around the surrounding trees, they were freshly made and they were trap spells. Krum knew she was coming, he probably came to that conclusion from Bagman's commentary along with the corroboration of his amulet. He must have seen Anya's Hind move towards him on the amulet, providing him enough suspicion to infer Anya's plan of offence being the best defence.

Anya looked around for signs of the famed seeker and found him hiding behind a tree. Before she even made a move, Krum sent a Blasting Curse at her, forcing her to roll for cover. The curse impacted a tree, sending splinters flying everywhere, some bouncing off the Shield Charm Anya had cast. However, the Bulgarian was not done, he sprang forward with vigour and began to keep the pressure on Anya. Strong curses and wide area spells seemed to be the arsenal that Krum was using, clearly not intent on underestimating the witch.

"An aggressive opening from Krum, forcing Seryy back. Just what you'd expect from him after the First Task," Bagman's commentary once again filled the area. "Clever move to use a Supersensory Charm to find out where Seryy is."

Ducking behind a tree as a jet of red flames splashed on the wood, Anya grimaced. No wonder Krum was able to target her accurately despite a Disillusionment Charm in place, he was able to pick out the blurry silhouette of her figure. She pointed her wand on the floor and took a deep breath.

" _Fumos_."

Black smoke exploded all around her, covering her from Krum's view. A Supersensory Charm may be able to pick out a person under Disillusionment Charms but it cannot see past a thick physical smokescreen, whereas Anya's right eye could. She came out from her cover and responded in kind, launching a dead log at Krum with a Banishment Charm. As the log neared him, she sent a Blasting Curse at the log, showering the Durmstrang Champion in sharp splinters. His Shield Charm stopped him from bodily harm, but he was forced to start dodging as red jets of Stunners started to fly from the thick black smokescreen in front of him.

"Looks like Seryy is fighting back just as aggressively, spells are flying from the smokescreen. Just how is she able to aim through that? OH! Ladies and gentlemen, we have another heart-stopping duel on our hands."

Another smokescreen from Anya expanded the size of the swirling black smoke, allowing her more room to move about under concealment. She fired off spells as she ran around, forcing Krum to constantly shift the focus of his Shield Charm around as he seemed to be attacked from multiple directions. A flock of transfigured bats that Anya sent was met with a firm counter-spell that had the bats dropping back onto the ground as harmless stones and pine cones. Krum replied with a curse that had a sickly green acid spraying around the area, eating in snow, stones and trees. Once again, Anya was forced to take cover, taking pot shots every now and then. It wasn't that her spells weren't hitting, she prided herself in her accuracy and precision, Krum's defence was just too good. The Durmstrang Champion clearly had experience in duel as he shifted his barriers and wards with an adept skill Anya had not seen with Cedric.

"That acid curse is nasty," Bagman cried out. "Look at it gnaw into the stone, it's a good thing our young Hogwarts Junior Champion is quick on her feet, not that we can really see her under that smokescreen of hers. A close fight is going on, this is going to be a battle of speed. Both champions are clearly skilled in their defence, Seryy with her dodging movements and Krum with his Shield Charms, this is going to go down to who can strike faster than the other's defences."

Bagman was right, Anya realised that she and Krum were quite evenly matched. She was definitely faster and had better reflexes, but Krum's experience in conventional magical duelling made up for those shortfalls. She was going to have to pull a trick from her sleeves if she intended on winning this fight. As another Stunning Spells zipped past her, she started biting her lower lip, trying to come up with a plan. A pincer attack was clearly called for, his Shield Charms were too good. All she needed was an attack from the back or side while Krum had his Shield Charm completely focused on his front. But there was no one else to work with, Transfiguration was out, Krum proved to be able to counter the creatures Anya sent.

_Unless..._

A small idea wormed its way into her head, festering quickly as the milliseconds passed. Anya smiled, she was going to have to pull a trick from her sleeves indeed. Krum would not expect this, the judges would not expect this. A genuine demonstration of some magical proficiency but a perfect illusion of sheer magical power. Didn't someone say that the best lies were half-truths? She dashed out from her cover and out from her smokescreen, cancelling her concealment spells as she did so. She took one careful aim, pumping all her energy into the next spell.

" _Reducto_!" the blue jet of light went past Krum, reducing the tree on his left into a fine mist which blossomed into the air. Immediately, she tumbled onto the snow as Krum's curse flew above her head. The tumble ended with her coming back on her feet and she followed up with the most unexpected move Krum had witnessed in all his duelling experience. She threw her wand high in the air.

It was an underhand throw, with the lob sending the wand spinning directly upwards. Krum's head followed the path of the wand before finally focusing back on Anya. The split second distraction was all she needed. Krum watched as she leapt forward, bringing her left hand to her chest, pressing the thumb and middle finger together. Anya's heart was pounding at this point, the thrill reaching a climax. She could feel the prickling sensation of excitement shivering from her neck down to her toes. She faced Krum and a wide grin crept open.

Krum froze for a moment, gripped by the expression on the raven-haired girl's face. It was predatory, with an almost feral glint in her eyes. She radiated the aura of a snake that just cornered a mouse, and at that moment, he very much felt like a mouse. Somehow, the light in the girl's right eye seemed to dance with its own wild liveliness.

" _Protego_!" Krum yelled, instinctively casting a Shield Charm. He did not know what she could do without her wand but that gleam in her eyes hinted – no, screamed – that she had an ace up her sleeves and she was drawing it out now.

Anya lashed out her left hand and as it fully extended, the thumb and middle finger that were pressed together in a strained tension cracked apart in a snap. The air seemed to crackle with a wild energy the moment her hand completed that motion. Next thing Krum knew, the air ten feet to his left where the _Reducto_ -ed tree once stood tore itself open into a crimson explosion.

The shockwave from the blast threw him off his feet, landing on the snow-covered ground, his Shield Charm absorbing most of the blow. A ringing sound overwhelmed his senses, he felt the warm trickle of blood flowing from his ears, the eardrums must have burst from the shockwave. He tried to climb onto his feet, but he stumbled right back onto the snow, his world spinning in his eyes. Turning onto his side, Krum emptied his stomach violently, his breakfast splattering onto the snow, a rancid brown on the otherwise pristine white. The vertigo and nausea from the shockwave proved too much for his body to handle as he curled up on the ground, clutching his head and groaning.

"WHAT WAS THAT!?" Bagman roared among the screams coming from the spectators high above the forest. "That can't possibly be a _wandless and nonverbal Blasting Curse_!?"

Anya went to retrieve her wand, which had stuck itself into the snow. She pushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes and turned to smile at the groaning Krum, the adrenaline still rushing in her blood. The thrill of pulling off her plan successfully was very invigorating.

"Unexpected! Impossible! And certainly a complete shock and surprise!" Bagman was raving at this point. "A fourteen year old girl using wandless and nonverbal magic at _that_ capacity? Absolutely unbelievable!"

As though on cue, the blaring horn signalling the end of the Second Task resonated across the Forbidden Forest. Cheers erupted from the dirigibles up above as Tournament officials began to cautiously enter the area, bringing all the champions out of the woods. Anya casually sent another Severing Charm at a lurking Red Cap before following a team of Tournament officials who were lifting Krum on a conjured stretcher back to the champions' tents.

As she entered the tent, the familiar sight of Madam Pomfrey fussing over the injured champions greeted her. Harry and Poitiers sat at opposite corners of the tent glaring at one another, covered in scratches and bruises. Dulovo was uninjured, the spells from Fleur inflicting no bodily harm whatsoever. Fleur herself was sporting a kneecap that was just healed from a fracture after a particularly nasty run-in with a Red Cap. On a cot bed sat a groaning Cedric, rubbing his back that had slammed against the ground from Anya's prior Knockback Jinx.

"Oh, there you are," Madam Pomfrey said with an exasperated sigh as she noticed she had two new patients. "Duelling in the woods? Really, that's a little too much. Ms Seryy, you sit here and be still. I'll get back to you after I treat Mr Krum, you were a little overenthusiastic with him I'm afraid."

Anya obediently followed the matron's orders, settling herself into one of the empty cot beds. Looking at Krum, she supposed she was 'a little overenthusiastic' as Madam Pomfrey had declared, the Bulgarian was roughed up badly. Then again, she had overestimated the effort required to generate a dust explosion sizable enough to incapacitate Krum. On top of that, it was her first time using sawdust as the medium of explosion. Thank Merlin Krum was good with his Shield Charms or else ruptured organs would have been involved.

"So, hunting down other Champions are we?" Fleur asked as she joined Anya at watching Madam Pomfrey treat the wounded Champion, rubbing her newly healed knee gingerly. "I will admit I was sceptical when I heard your plan but you did turn out alright. Not everyone would expect the Junior Champion to turn the hunter into the hunted."

"What happened to Potter and Poitiers?" Anya peeled her eyes off Madam Pomfrey to look at the two males who were glaring at one another.

"From what I gathered, a brawl consisting mostly of prank spells and a broomstick. Ended in poor taste though."

"I can clearly see that. Did Potter catch Poitiers' Hind?"

" _Oui_ ," Fleur replied with a hint of annoyance, none of which was directed at Anya. "From what Jean was ranting about, Potter managed to hit the Hind from sixty feet away with a strong Impediment Jinx during the brawl, allowing him to catch it."

"What was Poitiers' method of defence?"

"Charmed the Hind to create mirror images."

"And Potter hit the right one?" Anya asked incredulously. "From sixty feet?"

"That was the reason Jean was ranting actually," Fleur commented. "Although the broomstick hit across his cheek could have been the other reason."

Soon, Madam Pomfrey was done patching up Krum and turned her attention to Anya, fussing over her despite the fourth-year suffering only light scrapes. With everyone treated, the champions all left the tent to check on the scores that the judges were giving them.

“Now that all our esteemed champions are here,” Bagman announced. “Let us start announcing the points. Starting with Mihail Dulovo, for his rather _interesting_ method of using a combination of- err… curses and poisons to deter the Champions from catching his Hind, the judges have decided to award him thirty points.”

Anya smirked, clearly the British judges were not fond of the Durmstrang Junior Champion using Dark Arts to form his defences.

“Jean Poitiers, for his mirror imaging charms earns him a solid thirty-six points. And of course, for Anya Seryy, the dark horse of the Junior Champion. Her ability and aggression in duelling her champions combined with that astounding feat of wandless magic turned the hunters into the hunted, this earns her forty-five points.”

If Anya had been drinking anything at that moment, she would have choked on it. Even from the champions’ tents _outside_ the Forbidden Forest, she could hear the thundering roar of cheering from the floating dirigibles.

_Alright, maybe I did overdo it._

Suddenly, Anya realised that pulling out a card like that may not have been the brightest idea in the long run. Doing something like wandless magic would definitely attract scrutiny from many people, last thing she wanted was to have people inspecting her every move, especially people like Moody. Anya plastered a false uneasy grin on her face as she saw the other champions looking at her, hopefully showing a face of modesty as she swore internally. However, she actually did feel uneasy bringing this much attention on her. Hopefully, this would not come back to bite her in the future.

“Moving on for the Junior Champions to the Champions, Cedric Diggory, for another clever feat of Transfiguration for hunting down the Hinds – although it didn’t really work out – along with an admirable display in duelling earns him thirty-seven points. Fleur Delacour, for her unique and ingenious method of using nature-based scrying to seek out the Hind earns herself thirty-eight points. Harry Potter, although hitting a little bit of a snag, still managed to clinch himself a Hind through an impressive display of aim. The judges have awarded him thirty-five points. And Krum, showing us a fantastic display of duelling skills himself earns thirty-nine points.”

Eighty-four points in total so far. Anya had a clear lead, with the next closest being Krum. But in hindsight, she would rather let Krum take the lead, showing off the wandless magic was probably too much.

_You’d better win the Tournament after this, Anya. If Grey ever hears of this, I am going to be found dead in the riverbanks of the Northern Dvina River._

Soon, the champions were ushered into a tent where Bagman awaited them. The man threw Harry a slight look of worry, but his face soon took on the look of wonderment when he saw Anya.

_Yeah. Too much._

“Well, this task was simply splendid, very well done all of you. Now, on to the Third Task, partners have swapped once again. Ms Delacour with Mr Dulovo, Mr Diggory and Mr Potter here will be with Mr Poitiers. Last but not least, Mr Krum with Ms Seryy.”

Anya took a look at the man whose eardrums she had burst just an hour ago, the man in question was also looking at her with a mix of interest, relief and caution. A slight bit awkward, but also expected.

“I’m sure all of you are excited for the Third Task, am I right?” Bagman asked about with a wide smile. “Well… sorry folks, that’s left for a big mystery. It will take place during February and that’s all I can say. What I can say is that the whole of you better get ready for this sheer terror.”

Unable to decide whether Bagman was being serious or just plain goofy, Anya opted to watch on silently as the man waved everyone a cheery goodbye before hastily exiting the tent.

“So… Seryy, right?” Krum asked as the other champions left the tent, cautiously extending his hand to her. The feral expression on the girl during their fight was stuck firmly on his mind. “It will be a pleasure to work with someone as formidable as you, I never had the chance to duel with one as powerful as you.”

“Likewise,” Anya shook the offered hand. “You were quite good yourself. It’s not often that I’m forced to pull out a card like that.”

“This Bagman person seems to be quite vague about the Third Task,” Krum stated, looking at the tent flap where the Ministry Head of Department was a minute ago. “I suppose that doesn’t leave us with much clues to work on.”

“Definitely not,” Anya agreed. “Guess we’ll just have to prepare for the worse, brush up on any useful spells.”

“Sound advice. Until the next time then.”

The Bulgarian left the tent as well, leaving Anya to take a deep breath before heading back to the castle herself. She could already imagine the attention and persistent questions from the students awaiting her.


	12. Aftershocks

Chapter 12 – Aftershocks

CLASSIFIED 03M/03R

This document can only be read by personnel with Level 03M or 03R clearance or above. Personnel without proper authorisation caught possessing or viewing this document or a copy of this document will face an Azkaban sentence of at least 30 years in addition to a Memory Charm being performed.

MINISTRY OF MAGIC

DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES

RESEARCH DOCUMENT E7J112G

**PROJECT WILTSHIRE FIVE: EXPERIMENTATION REGARDING HUMAN AUGMENTATION VIA 'LIVE' RUNES**

DATE: ██████ 1903

DOCUMENT BY: 04A ████████

CONTENT

ABSTRACT ----------------------------------------------------- 1

PROJECT SUMMARY ---------------------------------------------- 2

PRIMARY WORKINGS --------------------------------------------- 4

APPLICATION OF THEORY ----------------------------------------- 70

RESULTS AND CONCLUSION --------------------------------------- 178

ANNEX A ------------------------------------------------------- 211

ANNEX B ------------------------------------------------------- 289

ANNEX C ------------------------------------------------------- 313

ANNEX D ------------------------------------------------------- 336

Page 1 of 347

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ABSTRACT

Both historical sources and current proven research has indicated that Active Runes can be applied to humans just like other various objects that have been used as a platform for Active Runes. These have traditionally been used to enhance the physical and mental capacity of the human body.

However the process of applying runes on humans is a much more dangerous and painful process involving tattooing, carving and branding to name a few. Additionally, Pythion's Laws on activating Active Runes comes with the restriction that no Active Rune is permanent in is its magical effects unless an input of magical energy is present every time an Active Rune is manifesting. On an inanimate object, this can be done through the appropriate charms or runic energy conservation systems. However, these methods cannot be feasibly applied on living beings such as humans.

As such, Project Wiltshire Five aims to further push the laws of magic by circumventing this issue, thus coming up with a method to permanently augment the human body. This document serves as a record to the process and results of Project Wiltshire Five. As of the date this document has been recorded, Project Wiltshire Five has been concluded by 05R ████████ and 05M ████████ as a success. Declaration as success had been approved by 08M ███████ .

PROJECT SUMMARY

Project Wiltshire Five began on ███████ and ended on ██████ 19██ , building on various other works of research from sources both inside and outside the department. Namely, results from █████████ , ██████████████ and ████████████████████████ were the most heavily used. Further details on derived research can be found in Annex C.

Project Wiltshire Five was proposed by 05M ████████ for research purposes, stating that the results of such a project can lead to its implementation in the ████████████████ to further improve their operating capacity, as well as its implementation in █████████ to ensure their ██████████████████████████ . This was approved by 08M ███████ . Full details can been found in Annex C. 

The project was held at Sector ██ Lab █ , working under a ██ men team. Majority of the research duration involved theoretical hypothesis and calculations, working out possible runic scripts and systems on parchment and deriving its potential feasibility via Arithmancy deciphering. In order to facilitate the project, ████████████ of varied ages were acquired from the ████████ supervised by 07F ██████ in order to test the various rune scripts during the latter part of the

Page 2 of 347

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"Astounding, simply astounding," chirped Professor Flitwick, bouncing on the balls of his heels. "Who would have thought Ms Seryy was capable of wandless magic at such a high proficiency. Why, Albus, I think that even you wouldn't be able to do that.

Accompanying him were his fellow Head-of-Houses and the Headmaster. Their bright orange dirigible gently descended onto the designated landing area alongside other dirigibles. The whistling sound of steam signalled the stop of the droning propellers and the doors opened on its own. Hordes of people filtered out from the plump airships and made their way to the castle. Many were chatting animatedly, the Second Task was just as exciting as the First Task. However, one thing clearly stood out in this task to be the highlight: the wandless and nonverbal Blasting Curse that had sent the famed Durmstrang Champion sprawling on the floor.

Even beside the professors, a second-year Gryffindor was speaking with excitement to his friend, "And just like that,  _ snap _ , and Krum when flying from that explosion. How did she even do that?"

"Probably cheated, being the Slytherin she is," the other student grumbled.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for senseless slander," Snape said silkily as he passed by the pair, catching up with the other professors. Once again, Karkaroff had decided to corner him for a discussion.

"Really now, Severus," Professor Sprout admonished. "Just let the boys have their fun."

Snape chose to remain quiet, allowing Dumbledore to speak up. "It is indeed quite astounding, very unexpected indeed."

"Unexpected?" Professor McGonagall asked suspiciously. "Weren't you the one who accepted the girl's transfer to Hogwarts? Surely you would have anticipated her abilities from the portfolio her family provided."

"That is exactly what made it unexpected," Dumbledore replied serenely. "Her results from the Magical Academy of St Petersburg show her to be a rather average student, showing high proficiency in only Transfiguration, Runes and Muggle Studies. Whereas her other fields were quite lacklustre."

"Well, she is proficient in Transfiguration," Professor McGonagall admitted. "She probably rivals Ms Granger in the coursework, and I can confidently say she is more than ready for her Transfiguration OWLs"

"Filius, Pomona, Severus?" Dumbledore inquired. "What about her other subjects?"

"As you said Albus," Professor Sprout responded. "The girl is lacklustre in her Herbology, averaging at only an 'Acceptable' score. Honestly, I suspect it isn't the lack of skill rather it's the lack of effort."

"Filius?"

"Quite strange actually," the short man piped up, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "She results in Charms are very temperamental, she could be struggling with even the simplest of charms one day but master difficult charms the very next day. It's as though she never had consistent practice in Charms back in Russia, only practicing certain charms while ignoring the rest."

"Their syllabus could be different in Russia. Honestly, from all these, I find her to be very strange." Professor McGonagall suggested. "Have you checked on that Albus, delved deeper into the records?"

"Honestly, I didn't," Albus said with a casual shrug. "You know how the paper trails are in the Russian Ministry of Magic. It's a complete swamp to trudge through."

"It's like they never recovered," Professor McGonagall exclaimed with an exasperated sigh, as though she was commenting on a particularly troublesome student. "They had what? Three years to recover?"

"Three years is a short time for a country," Professor Flitwick said sagely. "But from what I hear from my old acquaintances, it has made leaps and bounds in ensuring civil and financial stability. It's just that no effort was made to improve the administrative aspects of the government."

The group had reached the great doors of the castle by then. Lunch was about to start soon and they had silently agreed to have their lunch together before the start of their work. After all, the Great Hall was just a door away.

"Well, Severus," Professor Sprout asked the Slytherin Head who had been quietly following. "What's with the silence? She's in your house, you ought to know her best."

"It was as Professor Dumbledore said," Snape simply replied. "She is does well in Transfiguration, Runes and Muggle Studies while having an average if not shoddy performance in her other fields."

"Surely you know more than that," Professor Sprout pressed.

Snape seemed to consider the words for a long moment before speaking. "She is highly independent and seems to prefer working on her own. Although she seems reclusive, she is able to make friends despite being a foreign newcomer, developing bonds with Nott, Zabini and the Greengrasses. On top of that, she has proven herself very worthy of being in House Slytherin, especially after this task."

"The wandless magic?" said Professor McGonagall curiously. "I was unaware that raw power and high magical capacity were what Slytherin prides itself in."

"No, but cunning is," this time, Snape allowed him to crack a slight grin, the corners of his lips twitching up. "Evidently so if she had managed to trick everyone, include all of you here, into thinking that the explosion was purely wandless magic."

"It wasn't!?" Professor McGonagall gasped in surprise, stopping in her tracks. "But how was that even possible?"

"A very simple trick that can fool even the most brilliant of wizards," Snape answered. "Muggle science, the moment I recalled her aptitude in Muggle Studies, I saw this as a possibility to the cause of her display in 'wandless' magic."

"Do explain Severus," Dumbledore coaxed him gently.

"As I potioneer, I – like many Muggles in certain professions – understand the danger of reactive substances suspended in air as dust. Should there even be the slightest spark, it could trigger a reaction that can result in an explosion similar to what we have just witnessed."

"I didn't see her throw a vial at Mr Krum," Professor Sprout reasoned. "How could she even have reactive substances in the air without us noticing?"

"Filius, how was her duelling?" Snape asked the ex-duelling champion. "Particularly, her aim."

"She was very fast and agile," Professor Flitwick recalled. "As for her aim, very accurate and never missing. Krum had to constantly use a Shield Charm for all her attacks."

" _ Never _ missing?" Snape echoed, emphasising the first word.

"Well... I suppose there was one," Professor Flitwick said thoughtfully. "Her Reductor Curse was the only one that missed- OH! I understand now! Indeed, as you say Severus, she is very cunning. I never even thought of that!"

"Do explain Filius," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm sure we'd all like to know."

"If you observed closely and were not distracted by the ongoing duel, you will notice the missed Reductor Curse hit a tree quite close to Krum, completely rendering it into puff of dust. As we all know, wood being flammable can fill the requirement of a reactive substance. Add that with a Reductor Curse and..." Professor Flitwick trailed off, allowing the rest of the professors to piece the clues together.

"Unbelievable," said Professor McGonagall weakly. "Ms Seryy truly is creative, but how did she ignite the dust?"

"I did say she fooled everyone into thinking it was  _ purely _ wandless magic," Snape explained as the professors took their seats in the Great Hall. "The ignition of the sawdust could have indeed been wandless magic."

"But to even have that degree of control in wandless magic is still quite impressive," Professor McGonagall responded, helping herself to some haggis. "Not many could even do that without a wand."

"Hold it!" Professor Sprout's fork clattered onto her plate. "Wouldn't that be cheating? After all, she didn't truly use wandless magic the way we thought she did. That was what the judges gave her the points for."

"And the same points can be given for her ability to deceive even the Headmasters of three prominent magical schools," Dumbledore said jovially with a chuckle. The chuckles lasted a few seconds before a grimmer expression took over. "Now that you say she's strange Minerva, I do agree with you. And the timing of her transfer too, of possible times to transfer why now?"

"You mean transferring over during the year where there's the Triwizard Tournament?" Professor McGonagall said. "Well, it is odd but surely a coincidence."

"No, not that," Dumbledore said slowly, gazing at Snape. "The requested for her transfer comes the day after the Dark Mark was cast over the Quidditch World Cup."

"Honestly, Albus," Professor Sprout frowned. "Alastor must be rubbing off you."

"It's not just that Pomona, it's what she's able to do, especially in the two tasks we've seen so far. Filius, you say she's shaky at Charms but I realised that she does quite well in four charms just in this task alone. Disillusionment Charm, Notice-Me-Not Charm, Silencing Charm and Banishment Charm, the first three being spells rigorously drilled during Auror training for Tracking and Evasion. As you said, she is 'only practicing certain charms while ignoring the rest'.

As for runes, in the two sets that she has demonstrated in total, one is a sensory alteration and the other specifically denies magical transport. Not the usual rune scripts a student would learn. Furthermore, she actively chose to hunt the other Champions down during this Task are rather than evade them despite knowing that evasion is easier with broomsticks being disabled. And from the looks of it, being in a fight fazes her to absolutely no degree whatsoever. In fact, she rather looks to be in her natural environment."

"Now that's taking it a little too far," Professor McGonagall scowled, not liking the direction of the conversation. Snape on the other hand, met Dumbledore's gaze and seemed to be pondering deeply.

"Is it?" Dumbledore countered gently. "I'm sure all of you had heard of what happened in Alastor's class."

There were nods all around, all of them have heard about Moody casting the Imperius Curse on the students, with only Harry and Anya being the only ones who could throw it off.

"Many of you may not realise it, but the method she apparently used is a method I've seen before. I last saw it during the war against Grindelwald," there were a few gasps from Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick. The looks on the other two Head-of-Houses became more solemn. "It was a technique devised by the British Ministry of Magic as the twentieth century just came. Specifically, from the Department of Mysteries as a method for those who might lack the high mental capacity to counter the Imperius Curse. Despite looking simple, which it actually is now that I think of it, a great deal of training is still required for a person to instinctively inflict bodily harm on oneself upon receiving an Imperius Curse. This method was then employed by several Auror brigades throughout Europe in an attempt to counter any Imperius Curse from Grindelwald's Acolytes."

"That's what she did!?" Professor Sprout burst out, looking at the raven-haired girl sitting on the Slytherin table. "I thought it was just an accident."

"Feels comfortable in a fight and received specific Auror-level training in her magical education," Professor McGonagall summarised, a dawning sense of comprehension overcoming her. "Albus, just who is she?"

"I can't say, Minerva. She could have been a child soldier, I've heard that such things were a commonplace in Russia. Or she could possibly be an agent in the Russian Ministry. But what worries me is – as I had said previously – the timing of her request to transfer to Hogwarts and the fact that Severus has said that the relations she had struck up here were the families Nott, Zabini and Greengrass."

Their lunch had gone cold by this point, but not that any of them cared. They all understood Dumbledore was trying to say.

"Albus, just what are you trying to imply?" Professor McGonagall asked carefully.

"I'm not implying anything, Minerva. I'm merely putting down the possibilities. Severus do keep an eye on her, will you?"

Snape nodded before turning to face the girl, who was by then surrounded by a large group of people, all clamouring to speak to her.

**XXXXX**

"Come on Seryy, just tell us how you did it!" the same question reached her ears for the umpteenth time. She deflected with a casual shrug and a small enigmatic grin, choosing to carry on with her lunch.

"She ain't letting it up lads," Zabini told the group over his soup. "I've tried asking her for over an hour and she didn't budge."

"Does anyone here have Veritaserum on hand?" Astoria asked the crowd innocently, bringing out a rousing wave of laughter. "We could force feed her and then ask her. Oh! We should ask Professor Snape for some."

Anya joined in the laughter, waving off yet another question on how she achieved a wandless Blasting Curse. In the corner of her vision, she picked out the Head-of-Houses and Professor Dumbledore discussing. There were a few moments when their eyes flicked over to her direction, she was the topic of their conversation. Judging from their expression, they were not discussing anything positive, their faces ranged from shock to suspicion, she reckoned she probably overdid the whole wandless magic act. As their conversation came to a close, Dumbledore said something to Snape, who nodded and chanced a look on her. Anya sighed internally, it was bad enough having to avoid Moody, another professor's watchful gaze was not what she wanted.

Finishing her meal, she left the Great Hall. She avoided crowd of people nipping at her heels, insisting that she deserved a well-earned rest after the Second Task. Taking a turn towards the dungeons, she found herself further away from the hustle and bustle of the students. It was just a passing ghost or two that occupied the corridors, which was the reason Anya was surprised to find Mr Crouch loitering around.

The man moved with a quick pace, the sharp and rapid clacking of his shoes brimming with an anxious and frustrated urgency. However his face was a blank, his glossy eyes darting all over. If it had not been for the nerve bundle that connected it to the body, Anya would not have been surprised to see his eye spinning like Moody's magical eye.

"Ms Seryy, what are you doing here?" his voice was hallow and strained, making it seem as though articulation had become a gruelling chore for him.

"Going to my common room," Anya answered casually, though she had already shifted her body to hide her drawn wand from the man's view. She remembered Dimitri's warning in the letter and Mr Crouch's behaviour seemed to corroborate the oddness of the letter. "I'm in Slytherin after all."

"Is it now..." Mr Crouch trailed off, beginning his pacing down the corridor again. He was not acting suspiciously, Anya thought. No, he was acting like a deranged vagrant. Anya observed the man in his trip down the corridor trying to figure out the uneasiness she was feeling. Suddenly, she caught it, the lines of magic twisted and wounded around his head. She wondered why she never noticed it till now, probably because this was her second time seeing the man up close and during the first time she had been swept up by the excitement of being chosen as the Junior Champion. This man was under the Imperius Curse. That meant that someone had him in their pockets, obtaining dark ritual ingredients from overseas under his name and utilising his position as Head of International Magical Cooperation to smuggle them in. The main question now was what to do, but before she could even come up with an idea, a gruff voice growled from her back

"Good afternoon, Mr Crouch," Moody limped over to the man and shook hands. "Sorry to intrude, but you're wanted by Bagman in Dumbledore's office. He wants to discuss something for the Third Task."

Mr Crouch complied, walking obediently down the corridor. Moody place a firm grip on Anya and steered her away, leading her away from the Slytherin common room. "Come on Ms Seryy, I want to discuss something about your most recent essay."

"I think that can wait, Professor," said Anya, glad to have a solution to Mr Crouch's behaviour. "Because it would seem as though Mr Crouch is under the influence of an Imperius Curse."

"Nonsense, lassie. Why would you think so?"

Just what happened to the paranoid man who screamed 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE'? On her periphery, see could see privacy wards being casted by the professor, swirling around the corridor. Anya's caution grew tenfold, something was off, and she had to choose her words carefully.

Red lines filled Anya's vision as soon as her hesitation became to apparent, prompting her to twist herself out from Moody's grip and tumble onto the floor. A red Stunner flew past where she was just standing moments ago, colliding with the stone wall in a sharp crack. Turning around, Anya saw a drawn wand in Moody's hand, still faintly glowing from the spell he had cast. She reached for her pistol before realising that she was still in her previous Tournament attire. She never brought her weapons for the Task, fearing an item check. This was going to have to be all wandwork and unarmed combat. And against a physically disabled old man, she opted for unarmed combat.

Lunging forward with an inhuman speed, she landed her foot onto Moody's kneecap, hearing the satisfying crunch of it fracturing. The ex-Auror staggered forward into her incoming elbow, which snapped his head upwards, sending his body off balance. Moody crashed onto the floor on his back and Anya seized the advantage, landing her knee on his wand hand to direct it away from her. With her right arm on his neck, the other reached for her wand.

However, it was not quick enough. Searing flames shot from Moody's wand, encircling the pair like a coiling snake and even taking the form of a giant snake. The fire grew larger and larger with a loud billowing noise, smothering the entire corridor in a matter of seconds. But it never reached for the pair who were on the floor, it moved about jerkily towards them but was pulled back by an invisible force whenever it got too close.

"It's Fiendfyre, Ms Seryy. It only heeds my command, and is the sole reason we are still alive now," Moody growled. "You wouldn't be so foolish as to incapacitate me now, would you? I doubt you would know the counter-curse for this."

_ A magical Dead-man's trigger. Smart. Very bloody, fucking, damn smart. Should have went straight for the neck. _

Anya looked around from a possible escape route, but found none. The cursed fire covered too much area for any movement and Hogwarts was warded against Portkeys. She was cornered, she had to admit Moody played a very good move. Sighing, she completed her drawing of her wand. Still keeping the knee on Moody's wand, she pointed her wand at Moody.

"Imperius Curse wouldn't work, lassie," Moody smiled, stretching his scars into an ugly form. He called her plan out accurately. "Fire will go straight out of control."

It was definitely a fib. It could be a fib. It might be a fib. But it did a very good job in making Anya hesitate, Moody's smile grew wider, knowing that girl was too cautious to try. He will give her credit, she didn't look the slightest bit scared. Many girls her age would have been frightened senseless, but she merely put on a look of deep frustration, as though he just played a very good chess move against her.

"Privacy wards to keep people from hearing this noise too, smart," Anya murmured before raising her voice. "You know, Professor Moody, I could just stall until someone comes across this mess."

"Oh, you like to play this kind of game," said Moody wildly, his eyes alight with a mad excitement. "Let's see who cracks first then."

He twitched his wand slightly and the fiery serpent tightened its coil, bring the flaming wall closer to the pair. With a triumphant grin, he faced the girl.

"Well, lassie, are you still going to play it like this? You do know that I could control the flames to burn only you," the smile on his face grew wilder with each passing moment, whatever facade he had been maintaining seemed to break down rapidly.

"And you would start an investigation for a missing student who was seen just mere hours ago," Anya replied smoothly. "And being a Triwizard Tournament Junior Champion no less. You wouldn't risk this, you'll need me alive."

"Oh, you're a clever one," Moody cackled with the same madness in his eyes. "But are you sure? Let's just see if you're as mad as I am!"

The fires coiled even closer, inching in slowly until only a feet of hot air separated the pair from a fiery death. Anya was sweating bullets at this point, the heat was unbearable.

"Curse damage is irreparable," Anya told the grizzled man. "If I get harmed by just the tiniest bit, something would be off."

"You think I care?" his grin grew even wider. The flames were inches away from licking Anya's boots at this point, Anya swore under her breath. She did not know what his plans were, trying to ensure that the Imperius Curse on Mr Crouch stayed confidential, but she was sure it wasn't worth her life. With a final look for any passing student or ghost that ended in vain, she dropped her wand, allowing it land on Moody.

"You win," Anya relented, raising up her hands in surrender and moving off Moody's body.

"Good effort, lassie," said Moody, picking up Anya's wand and climbing on his feet with difficulty due to a fractured kneecap. "Not enough."

"What's next?" Anya asked slowly, narrowing her eyes at Moody. "Can we both just forget this moment? Literally too, a Memory Charm would do just fine right about now."

"That would be my plan too, Seryy," Moody growled, slowly building back his original expression of an ex-Auror and not a crazed maniac. "But first, ten steps back."

A flick of his wand widened the coil of fire around them, providing Anya ample room to move. However, Anya merely looked at him in confusion. "You need space to cast a Memory Charm?"

"Don't fool around, lassie," Moody barked. "I need space to ensure that you stay harmless. You didn't think I would just cancel the Fiendfyre right now without any insurance, not when you are able to cast wandless magic and move as fast as a werewolf on a full moon. Now sit on the floor, legs crossed. And the hands stay up too."

Anya swore under breath, her last resort scrapped. She obliged, settling herself onto the hot floor. Moody threw her wand back to her, knowing full well she can't use it against him without dying herself. Anya caught the wand with a puzzled expression.

"Stun yourself, you know that spell very well."

_ Very damn smart. _

Not like she had much choice, Moody held all the cards here. Steeling herself, she pointed her wand at her chest. Hopefully, Moody wouldn't plan on messing around with her unconscious body. Then again, lunch should be over by now, if he didn't make his clean-up neat and fast, he would be caught.

" _ Stupefy _ ."

Her world when black.

**XXXXX**

It was cold, very cold. It was painful, very painful. Each snowflake that landed on Anya's face seemed like a taunt from mother nature. She sat on the snow, her hands gripped tightly on her right thigh, attempting to stem the bleeding. The effort was in vain though, as Vlad had said. The wound was cursed such that applying pressure would not achieve any results, cauterisation was called for.

Anya cursed out loud, tears streaming down from the pain and exhaustion. She was close to giving up now, so damn close. All it took was one word, one syllable, and she would be whisked away by a portkey to the comfort of a warm bed and medical treatment. She was feeling a little woozy from the blood loss, she had been bleeding a lot, evident from the long trail of blood on the white snow. Turning her head, she looked on hopelessly at the bundle of kindling and sticks she had struggled to find in the Siberian wasteland. She had no wand, no lighter, no match, not even a flint to work with. She couldn't even rub the sticks to generate enough heat to start the fire she so desperately needed, they were all too damp and she didn't even know how to do it correctly.

She was only provided two items, a blunt knife for wood cutting and as cauterisation tool and a patch of steel wool to start a fire. There were no batteries to ignite the latter item though, because she was supposed to be the batteries herself. Taking another deep breath, she focused on the steel wool nestled within the kindling, yearning every last drop of energy into her fingertips. With a frustrated grunt, she snapped her fingers but once again, nothing happened. This was messed up, she never even got the hang of it before being rudely shoved into this predicament. She collapsed onto the snow, looking distantly at the unlit bundle.  Looking up, she saw a lone Soviet attack helicopter - a Mi-24 - flying off in the distance. She wasn't far away from a Muggle military base too, getting caught would not bode well. Her eyes followed the helicopter's path until she could turn her head no further without twisting her body around.

She wrung her hair in frustration. It was not like as though she had anything to lose. As Nathaniel had said, anyone of them was free to walk out anytime. Many had, she had seen them walk away never to return. If anything, giving up now would put her life less at risk, both present and future. 

With a sigh, she realised that this was the only life she had known. She had found a sick sense of comfort in it and she was not willing to leave the realm of familiarity. Also, she wanted to stay with those who had grown up with her. Those who had cared for her and those she had cared for in return. Her family. She was enduring so that she could stay by their side.

Though they were all orphans from different parts of the world, a strong sense of camaraderie had formed between them. They were all shedding the blood of others in this murky life of theirs so that they can stick together. If all of them chose to leave simultaneously, Anya doubted that any of them would look back with regret. But that never happened, so they all stayed.

Anya turned back to the unlit bundle of wood, she was sure somewhere in the hundred mile radius, Dimitri, Wei Jen and Kiel were all facing the same predicament, placed in the same gruelling test. Nathaniel had made it clear, they probably would not find themselves further in his personal tutelage should they fail this. She was confident Dimitri would pass this, he had the raw magical power built to brute force his way through. Jen and Kiel probably would pass too. If she failed this, she would still be able to see them, but living together like they always did in Arkhangelsk? Not anymore.

_ Listen up all of you – especially you Dimitri, stop dozing off – understand that wandless magic requires a high degree of purposefulness. It not just magical power and ability that allows one to wield wandless magic. Understanding exactly what you desire is the key, that is how magical children create accidental magic, the forerunner of wandless magic. Known exactly what it is that you desire and materialise it into the physical plane, that is the key to using wandless magic. Of course, the scale of things you can do with wandless magic still falls on your ability, power and amount of practice. Nonetheless, I expect all of you to be able to achieve the standard set of cantrips wandlessly by the end of this month. Magic is only truly dangerous if it is completely independent of all tools, wand included. _

One last time, she lifted her hand and with great deliberation, snapped her fingers once more. This time, a crackle of electricity danced about the steel wool, igniting it into a warm glow as the fire spread to the kindling and to the sticks. A relieved smile cracked open at the orange light, she brought her hands close to the fire, warming them up.

When the fire grew big enough, she stuck her knife in the fire, giving ample time for the metal tip to heat up into a red glow. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the burning metal against the wound on her thigh, screaming as the pain overwhelmed her. The process repeated until finally, her wound had stopped bleeding. Anya allowed herself a small smile, she couldn't wait for Tanya's turn to be tested.

If all of them failed simultaneously, Anya doubted that any of them would look back with regret. But that never happened, so they all stayed.


	13. Dungeon

Chapter 13 - Dungeon

"Seryy, you alright?"

Anya snapped herself back into focus, almost stumbling onto the floor. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around at the passing sixth-year Slytherin who called out to her, something was clearly wrong.

"Yeah, I'm fine," the Slytherin seemed satisfied by her response and carried on his path.

_ Did I just zone out on my way here? _

Stretching her arms over her head, she continued her way to the Slytherin common room. Then, a humming sensation on the back of her head made her stop, dread creeping up on her. She never thought that those runes would ever be activated, especially not here in Hogwarts. Carved into the back of her skull was a small circle of runes, about the size of a galleon. It had been a nightmarish process involving too much of a scalpel-wielding Vlad, but Nathaniel insisted that it was necessary. It was a Mind Magic runic script, providing and enhancing Occlumency as well as providing defence against unwanted tempering of one's mind.

It was not perfect, but it was something. And its hum was informing Anya that someone had just tempered with her mind. The runes were currently attempting to restore her mind back to the original state, hence the hum, it would take days, weeks or even months depending on the skill of the caster. Taking slow deep breaths, Anya forced herself to calm down before taking a look at her watch. It had been twenty minutes since she left the Great Hall, she remembered taking the turn into the dungeons and somehow ending up here. She did the math in her head, factoring in her walking speed and her current location. It had taken five to ten more minutes than necessary to end up here, which was also the duration she could not remember.

_ Just what could possibly happen in five to ten minutes? And just who was it? It couldn't have been a surprise attack, I can see those coming. No, there had to be a fight, one that ended in me losing. Probably not a student, one of the teachers? _

Filtering through the list of suspects, Anya came to the most likely conclusion, Mr Crouch. After all, there had been that letter from Dimitri, and that man used to be in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, it was not too far-fetched. Maybe she had caught him smuggling in those dark ritual ingredients that Dimitri had mentioned about and he was forced to Oblivate her. Well, she couldn't possibly know and she did not plan on jumping to conclusions, once the runes did their job, the truth will be revealed. For the time being, she had to be very careful with Mr Crouch.

**XXXXX**

**December 1991**

"This is the place?"

"Yep, it's the whole district too, this town is a Red stronghold. More than half the shops you see are a front for their activities."

The two of them were looking at a shopping district of a town. Most of the stores had already closed, not many roamed the streets. There was an open bar or two, a brightly lit convenience store that operated the night hours and a butcher shop that was just turning in for the night. Other than that, the no light came from the buildings.

"Who are we going after again?" Anya slowly slid in a fresh magazine into her Dragunov, enjoying the clicking sound as it went in place.

"They call him the Butcher and he's Ignovich's right hand man," Kiel answered. "Can't believe the coward actually sold all his partners out."

The two of them were currently nestled on top of a water tower, the tallest structure they could find in the town. Despite the water tower being far from district they were looking at, this was still the best view the two of them could find. Kiel had a pair of modified omniculars in his hands, his own sniper rifle lay idly beside him. He had a very good aim but at this distance, it was much better to let Anya do all the shooting while he provided spotting assistance. Nathaniel was not with them, having left to catch bigger fishes. Instead, it was another one of the nameless faces Anya had seen multiple times who was leading this operation.

Anya glanced at her watch, it was six in the evening, but the winter season had ensured that the sun was already vanishing out of sight. Ten more minutes and the assault would commence, Anya nudged her partner and showed him the timing on her watch. The two nodded at one another and each pulled out a gas mask from their bags. Pulling the rubbery masks over their heads, the pair performed a quick buddy check, making sure their masks were worn properly and that the filters were in working condition. After adjusting their masks for comfort, the two children went back to surveying the area. She saw a lot of enemies and she was glad Nathaniel's uncle, Grey, had the sense to send a larger team here. Strands of magic radiated from patrolling wizards and there were more than just a few machine gun nests hidden around. This was not going to be a skirmish like Vladivostok, but if all went well, it was going to be a massacre.

Off in the distance, Anya could already see lines of magic sprouting around the town, a combination of Muggle-repelling wards, Anti-Disapparition and Anti-Portkey Jinxes. Grey truly was a magical and logistical genius, Anya had to give credit to the grumpy old man, coming up with a reliable method to ward off an entire town from scratch within half an hour was no easy feat. The Muggle-repelling wards have been up for an hour by this point, hopefully, most of the innocent population would have left the town on some sudden errand. Maybe some of the Red's Muggle fighting force would have left too, probably not though, they had been charmed to resist wards of those nature.

Ten more minutes for any innocent passer-by to vacate the shopping district. If not, they would likely die, nobody here really cared about the collateral damage. What's left of the Ministry will cover up for them.

Time decided to move slowly as the ten minutes passed by, neither of them saying a word to the other. As the ten minutes of silence passed, a sharp whistling sound signalled the commencement of the assault. It tore through the dark sky, leaving behind the faintest trail of illuminating light. Arching over their heads, the small white light flew towards the town, heading for the shopping district. Behind it, dozens of similar light followed its path.

As the white disappeared within the buildings and streets, plumes of dust and smoke erupted up. Even from where she and Kiel laid, she could feel the slight tremor and the air rumbled in a thunderous clap. When the first light made its violent mark, the rest followed, plunging into the district. Only a few more explosions followed, the rest descended without the fanfare of its counterparts. The ones that didn't explode were not duds, in Anya's opinion, those were more sinister. Those were the reason each of them had been issued a gas mask.

Just as the dust was settling, various squads of men on broomsticks from all directions zoomed through the streets, heading for the shopping district. They kept in tight formation, some ascending over the buildings as rain down spells while most dismounted upon reaching their destination, dashing for cover the moment they did. When the white lines drew tight, so did her finger on the trigger. A soft thump and one of the machine gun nests located in the second floor of a shop went silent.

"Hit," said Kiel, his voice sounding hollow due to the gas mask. "Next target. Bearing two-zero-zero. Range, one-seven-three-three. Machine gun nest in the third storey of the green building, two windows from the left. Zero wind change"

Another round fired, lighting their surroundings in a brief flash that only they could see. Half a second later and the bullet found its mark, silencing yet another threat.

"Hit. Next target. Bearing one-niner-four. Range, one-five-six-two. Stationary wizard in the middle of the street firing Killing Curses. Wind change, adjust left by four clicks."

For the next hour, that had been the routine, Kiel would mark out targets, keep track of the winds and indicate any sight adjustments required while Anya followed his instructions. When the moon had reached its zenith, an eerie silence had finally settled over the town. There were smoke columns in the air and the warm glow of burning wreckage scattered throughout the area. When the 'all clear' signal was given - three green flares, one blue flare - Anya and Kiel decided to inspect the carnage.

Death, the whole place was permeating with its sickening stench – which in this case, smelt surprisingly akin to freshly cut grass. Burnt carcasses and bodies hit with more exotic curses contributed to most of the foul odour, not that any of them could smell it, everyone had their gas masks on. With the phosgene gas still lingering the air, the only other alternative was a Bubble-Head Charm. Nobody used that charm, everyone on the job knew that a Muggle gas mask was the safer option; it was less prone to puncture.

"Remind me again why Grey always brings phosgene gas for operations like this?" Anya asked uncomfortably, avoiding another dead body.

"It's colourless," Kiel humoured the rhetorical question, equally uncomfortable with the grim atmosphere. But the two of them neither backed out nor did they voice any complaints. "And wizards don't notice them until it’s too late. It's much easier fighting an enemy who is half-choking and forced to maintain a Bubble-Head Charm."

"Did they catch the Butcher?"

"Yes," Kiel nodded. "Fed him to the dogs from what I've heard, literally. They probably took a page out of Nathaniel's books."

They came across a smouldering butcher shop, where three of their Spooks stood outside, casting spells all over the place. From the looks of it, there was an even bigger commotion inside. The two children turned to each other and held a silent conversation, before nodding and heading for the shop. One of the three men noticed the incoming children and headed to stop them.

"You'd better not want to enter this place," the man grunted. "It’s an absolute mess."

"Why's that?" Kiel asked.

"You'll find out why they call him the Butcher if you do," the man spoke ominously. "If you still want to enter, then on your heads it'll be."

Kiel turned to Anya for her appraisal and the girl shrugged, as though saying 'why not'. The blonde turned back to the man and gave a firm nod, walking towards the butcher shop with Anya behind him. The front door had been blown open by a curse and any glass that existed were on the floor as shards. Hooks dangled from the ceiling, hanging up various cuts and joints of twined meat. The people inside were busy checking the shelves and drawers or anything interesting, overturning tables and cabinets. Ahead of them, a trapdoor to the basement laid when open, one of their Spooks occasionally leaving and entering.

The dark maw seemed to draw the two of them in and they cautiously made their way down the trapdoor steps. Each step brought out the slight tap of their boots on the concrete, only further resonated by the close walls. However, a screaming voice seemed to drown out their gentle footsteps. The place was large, unnaturally so, an Extension Charm must have been put in place. As they reached the basement, their boots squished on the sickly blood that threatened to flood the place.

Bodies.

Bodies everywhere. Some hung from hooks on the basement ceiling, akin to the meat upstairs. Others laid on the rows of tables that stretched from one end of the room to the other. Those were mutilated beyond belief, entrails spewed out from their bodies, some had their legs dismembered and others stripped of their skin and their eyeballs removed. In another corner of the twisted workplace, organs were stored in jars filled with runic carvings and various bags were filled with blood. They were all catalogued and labeled, some already in crates. Ingredients to fuel the magical black market.

And for the most useless part of the bodies in terms of black market value, the meat, those carved expertly into manageable pieces, drained of all blood and twined up in butchers string. When the realisation hit them that the Butcher had sold the unwanted meat to the residents of the town, Kiel bent over and retched in his gas mask. Anya could feel the bile rising in her throat through, she cast a Bubble-Head Charm on herself and ripped off her gas mask. Fumbling at her vest, she opened a pouch and took out a vial of orange liquid. Pulling out the stopper, she drained the vial in a single shot, exhaling in a ragged breath as the liquid entered her stomach. As the cold familiar shock of energy reached her fingertips, she shuddered and fixed her eyes open, allowing the rush of energy to clear her mind.

_ Stare. Stare. Stare. Do not back down. _

Catching her breath once more, she placed her gas mask back on and cancelled the charm. She turned to find Kiel applying a cleaning charm on his gas mask in an attempt to remove the bile he expunged. The two looked at one another, they were tempted to leave, they were going to leave, but a fresh shriek of anguish drew their curiosity like moth to a light. Edging closer to the back of the basement revealed rows and rows of cages, and within them rested bodies. Some were still alive, barely so, choking their lives out gradually. Most lay dead, their contorted bodies signalling a painful death. The phosgene gas must have seeped in when the shells rained down on the district. All of the people here were meant for slaughter, locked up like cattle waiting to be sold.

"AHHHHHHHH!" the fresh wails caught the pair's attention once more. Bringing their focus to a group of Spooks who were surveying the scene before them. A young boy knelt on the cold metal cage he was trapped in, dressed in tattered rags. In his arms was a dying girl, choking softly as the gas that permeated the air slowly robbed her of her life.

" _ Sestra! Sestra! Ostat'sya v zhivykh _ ! (Sister! Sister! Stay alive!)" the boy held his sister tightly, shaking her gently. Slowly, the light in the girl's eyes faded and the gas robbed her final breath away. " _ Pozhaluysta, ostavaytes' v zhivykh. Vy moya yedinstvennaya sem'ya ostalas', tak chto, pozhaluysta, zhivi _ .(Please, stay alive. You are my only family left, so please live.)"

Another cry of grief wrecked the boy as he finally realised his sister's passing. He could do nothing but watch as his sister died, his life secured by a Bubble-Head Charm he had conjured from accidental magic. Anya looked at her fellow comrades who watched the scene, they were all frozen stiff in shock. She could see the surprise etched in their eyes through the eyepiece of their gas masks. They hadn't been expecting this, nobody had. Everyone knew there would be innocent lives lost as collateral damage, but their Muggle-repelling wards would have eliminated many unnecessary lives lost. Anyone else caught in the gas would have had ample time to flee, the rest would have discounted as bad luck, they had all been trained to adopt that mindset. But this was not bad luck, this was just disgustingly depressing, trapped behind metal bars with nowhere to run as invisible death tightened its grip on their lungs.

Anya made her way past the frozen adults and to the wailing boy, kneeling in front of him. Slowly, she moved her hand over the dead girl's face and covered her eyes, bringing some semblance of solace to the poor soul. She faced the boy and stared into his eyes that bore a similar green shade as hers. Despair, sorrow, grief, Anya wasn't sure which words suited the pitiful face in front of her. The two children looked at one another, they could not be possibly more different. One was donned in combat pants and boots with multiple layers of thick clothing that culminated in a ballistic vest and jacket, lithe, healthy and fit with a rifle sling over her shoulder. The other had only a thin layer of rags to fend off the cold and did not even have shoes on, skinny, sick and shivering from the cold.

At that moment, Anya did not care for they were both the same, children caught in this hellish bloodshed. She pulled the poor boy into a tight hug and allowed him to cry his heart out onto her shoulders. As his sobs subsided, she scooped him up and heaved him onto her back, piggybacking him out of that nightmare and to the surface. She tore her eyes from the boy's face, but she knew that sight would wander in her dreams for the rest of her life.

**XXXXX**

"Alright Seryy, one last time," said Zabini as he let out a puff of smoke. The three reclusive Slytherins found themselves lounging around in an unused classroom. "How in Merlin's name did you pull that off?"

Anya shrugged nonchalantly and offered a cigarette - both boys had left their back in their dorms - to Nott, who graciously accepted it. "Mate, if she ain't saying anything. She ain't saying anything, period." Zabini grumbled silently, muttering something about 'bribed by fags' before the trio fell back into companionable silence, enjoying the peace.

"No, seriously," Zabini broke the silence again. "You can't just do that."

Anya chuckled, Zabini had yet to let her off the hook for her wandless magic at the Second Task. In fact, almost everyone had yet to do so as well, despite weeks passing by. From the hallways to the classrooms, whispers followed her regarding the Second Task. Frankly, Anya could not see the fuss herself, after Nathaniel had drilled the similarities between a children's accidental magic and wandless magic in her head, she found her own wandless magic quite lacking. Some of the accidental magic that children pull off are more impressive than the cantrips adult can cast with wandless magic.

"Well, she did," said Nott. "Still, any ideas on what's for the Third Task?" The Third Task should be coming anytime soon, despite a vague date for the task, Anya felt that it was probably a week or two away.

"Like I said, Bagman acted all spooky and said it was a terrifying mystery," said Anya as she scratched the back of her head, right over where the hum of the runes were. She had been a lot more jumpy lately, though she never showed it to others. Having someone in the castle who had altered her mind did little to soothe her. To top it off, she feared her recovery would not be complete for months, whoever it was did a thorough job.

"Man's an overdramatic twat," Zabini snorted. "How he even become a Head of Department is the bigger question."

"Well it's almost time for Runes," Anya declared with a sigh, hopping off the table she had been sitting on. "Nott and I better make a move, see you soon Zabini."

**XXXXX**

Anya Seryy. That girl was an enigma, it was the first thought that Hermione could come up with whenever she saw that Russian girl. Everything about her seemed so inconsistent and uncanny that she wondered why Harry ever thought of her as his sister - thank God that fiasco was dealt with.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she saw the girl in question, scrutinising at the Slytherin for anything that seemed out of place. The girl entered the classroom with Nott, exchanging a few words and making their way to the back of the class where they settled themselves down. No doubt about it, that girl was an enigma.

In total, Hermione shared three classes with the transfer student, Runes, Potions and Defence. And in each of these classes, what little attention she had paid to the Slytherin girl made the girl even stranger. She excelled in Runes, Hermione herself would begrudgingly admit that, she performed at a NEWT-level proficiency, maybe even going further as to say it was a Gringotts curse-breaker standard. In Potions, she seemed just average but Defence was what struck her as the most uncanny. For starters, she seemed to be the only one unfazed by Moody's erratic behaviour and despite showing no distinct aptitude in that subject, her ability to hold herself in actual combat - as demonstrated in the Second Task - was on a level expected from Aurors, she even broke the Imperius Curse Moody had placed on her.

It was almost as though she had experience in real life combat, but Hermione dismissed that foolish notion. Finally, there was the incident, as she called it, with wandless magic during the Second Task. Hermione herself had tried desperately to learn wandless magic since her first year, scouring through various books in the library when she had the free time. In the end, the whole feat seemed too advanced for her and after a few inquiries with Professor McGonagall she decided to drop it, saving it for the future. Somehow, the Slytherin girl seemed to be able to cast high-powered curses using wandless magic at the age of fourteen, Hermione herself was saving her second attempt for her sixth year. Hermione could not deny feeling jealous.

"Alright, everyone settle down," said Professor Babbling rapping her wand on the table, smiling genially at her students. She was upbeat, perky and encouraging, a good choice of tutor for a depressingly difficult subject. Behind Professor McGonagall and Hagrid, she was easily Hermione's next most favourite teacher. "Lesson's about to start."

Almost immediately, the students began to give their undivided attention to the willowy professor. Hermione internally smiled at the rapt attention that the students gave here unlike the core subject classes. Being in an elective class that was considered as the second most difficult - behind Arithmancy - had its perks, everyone who was there came willingly to learn, any of the slackers in their year would have scurried off to another elective like Divination.

"For the rest of this second semester, all of you here will be doing a pair project. This project will contribute to twenty percent of your final grade, so do put in your best effort for this. Remember, we're aiming for everyone here to score an Exceeds Expectations grade."

Everyone took a breath, this project was going to be big, Hermione could see nearly everyone eyeing either herself or Seryy hopefully.

"Every two weeks, each pair will have to make a presentation on their progress. As for the topic of the project, since this particular cohort has performed above average compared to other years, I believe a treat is in order."

The silent excitement in the class grew even thicker as she said those words. Many had a good idea of where she was heading, they were even hoping for it.

"Since all of you have established a solid foundation in third year and OWLs are in next year, I believe that this year is the perfect opportunity for a little bit of higher syllabus experimentation. I believe that this is a good motivation for everyone to continue their Runes to the NEWTs. For this grand project, we delve into Active Runes."

There was an explosion of cheers at the announcement, Active Runes were probably what kept the students going. After all, they were the only practical application of runes aside from translation and essentially a form of assisted wandless magic. Their entirety of the OWLs were dedicated towards theory with no practical in the magical sense. Third year involved the learning the basic runic languages of Ogham, Elder Futhark and Younger Futhark and the magical meaning behind each isolated rune. Fourth year saw Egyptian and Sumerian runes thrown into the fray while they learned the interrelationships between different runes and their effects when combined. Fifth year would have snippets of more esoteric languages as well as the theoretical formulation of successful runic scripts that can be used magically.

It was only after their OWLs and into their NEWTs that all this would be turned into a practical application of magic in the form of Active Runes. Professor Babbling was taking them all straight into the NEWTs for a small taste of what to expect, hopefully to leave them hungry for more. Hermione couldn't deny the effectiveness of that plan, she was already craving for more from just the idea of applying Active Runes.

"Now remember," Professor Babbling said sternly. "These are Active Runes we will be dealing with and you are all still fourth-years, there will be no magical activation of any rune scripts you carve without my direct supervision. Yes, even you Ms Seryy."

Hermione turned, along with everyone, to face the girl at the back of the class who had an amused expression on her face.

"We would not be performing any large scale Active Runes, just miniature test models to show the concept. The theme for what Active Runes to use will be left to your choice. As for the pairings," Professor Babbling continued, taking out a scroll of parchment. "I have already decided them for all of you. Now, Terry Boot and Padma Patil... "

Professor Babbling began to read off the parchment, students eagerly listening to each assigned pairing until she came to a pair. "Hermione Granger and Anya Seryy."

This time, there was an explosion of outrage as the students instantly demanded that the two best students in Runes – one of whom was already proficient in Active Runes – should not be paired together on the basis of fairness. It took a while before Professor Babbling was able to calm the class down.

"Everyone, please, I have my reasons. Ms Seryy here is a Junior Champion in the Triwizard Tournament and will have to dedicate time in preparing for it. With that in mind, she may not be able to help much and would possibly be a burden – no offense, Ms Seryy – to take as a partner. By pairing her with the next best Runes student, Ms Granger, nobody who be severely disadvantaged. See? It all works out. Now, everyone please kindly move to seat with your partners, might as well build some rapport together."

The students seemed mollified by her explanation and began shuffling around the class to seat with their assigned partners. Hermione, feeling that the Slytherin would not bother herself with moving, collected her belongings and moved to sit with Seryy.

"So, we'll be together, huh?" Hermione chose to break the ice. The girl was normally silent, and seldom talked. Unlike Daphne Greengrass, the Ice Queen of Slytherin, her silence was not one of disdain and superiority, it was neutral and occasionally slightly amused, as though the happenings in Hogwarts were a child’s play. All in all, though Seryy was strange, she seemed quite amiable unlike some Slytherins like Malfoy, so she might as well break the ice.

"It appears so," Seryy nodded, appraising her partner. She kept the whole affair short and professional, not that Hermione minded. "I do apologise beforehand if I become, as Professor Babbling mentioned, a burden."

"No, it's quite alright," Hermione dismissed, taking out her quill and parchment to begin talking down notes as Professor Babbling began listing out the path to take for the project and the recommended books to read up on. She chanced a glance at Seryy and nearly gasped in surprise.

The girl was using pen and paper, idly twirling the ballpoint in her fingers. Further inspection revealed the digital wristwatch on her left arm, numbers flashing in a loud declaration of being Muggle. A Muggleborn or Half-blood transferring here? Definitely uncanny, this was rare even for the Purebloods. Hermione felt like she should not ask but her curiosity always got the better of her.

"Do you happen to be Muggleborn?" She asked gently, hoping to subtly wheedle the information from her, unaware that the girl had been reading her body language.

To her surprise, Seryy cut straight to the chase. "I use a pen and paper because it's more convenient as a left hander, prevents all the unnecessary smudging. Muggle watch, because those are cheaper."

"Oh," that was all Hermione could manage as a response before asking further. "Don't the Slytherins bother you for being, I don't know, 'Muggle-ish'?"

"Couldn't be bothered," her reply was filled with mild amusement.

Definitely uncanny.

They kept an air of silence after that, focusing solely on the lesson. When the bell rang, Hermione quickly agreed on Tuesday and Thursday evenings in the library as their meeting plan. With that done, she left the classroom with a sigh. She was hoping for a chance to partner with some good Ravenclaw, but here she was stuck with a girl that seemed to be brimming with secrets. However, Hermione perked up when she realised her partner was already proficient in creating and activating Active Runes, she could possibly learn a lot from her.

**XXXXX**

Gunshots. Gunshots everywhere, the bright muzzle flash and the loud cracks. Accompanied by spells firing everywhere, green jets of light taking precedence over other spells. Everything was a wild blur and Anya did not know she was, but it felt familiar all the same.

There was a loud bloodcurdling shriek and Anya spun around to find a gaunt man leaping at her with a crazed look. He pinned her onto the ground, but she had already drawn her a knife, lodging it deep in his neck. Blood gushed out like a burst dam and the crimson fluid splattered all over her, staining her red. With a great heave, she pushed the limp body away and climbed onto her feet.

Anya looked around, trying to figure out where she was. Brick walls were everywhere, she was in an empty building. Or was it a street? She couldn't tell, it was too dark. However, what was easily discernible was the dead bodies all around her, some laid on the floor and some were standing. But all of them had the same glazed lifeless eyes staring at her hauntingly, blood trickling from various wounds on their bodies and pooling on the floor. Looking down at her hands, she saw the blood covering her hands, its coppery tang all too familiar. She wiped her hands on her pants, the only clothing left not heavily drenched in blood, hoping to remove some of the blood from her hands. But the blood stayed on her hands, unwilling to part with her. Anya frowned, wiping her hands again, but still the blood stayed. Pausing for a moment, Anya stared at her blood-soaked hands before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.

When she opened her eyes, she was in the Slytherin dorms, lying on her bed. She sat herself up and checked her watch – it was a habit of hers to keep wearing it – which told her that it was three in the morning. Looking past the bed drapes, she could see the sleeping figures of her dorm mates, Greengrass, Davis and Parkinson. Beyond them were the dead bodies around the room. Her breath almost hitched in her throat, but she forced herself to breath and stared into the eyes of the corpses. They had the same glazed lifeless eyes.

_ Breathe in, count to four. Hold, count to four. Breathe out, count to four. Hold, count to four. _

Anya looked down to her hands and they were coated in blood, as though her dream had clawed its way to reality. She clenched and unclenched her hands and she could feel the slick sensation of the blood rubbing against her fingers. The stench of blood and rotting bodies wafted through the air and the sharp metallic taste of blood filled the back of her throat. Anya stared at her hands for a minute before surveying the entire room and all its gore, refusing to flinch the slightest as though she was challenging it. It was a familiar sight, and the drill had almost become a routine.

_ Stare. Stare in the eyes. Stare in the eyes of the dead until they can no longer haunt you. Do not ignore. Do not back down. Stare death, pain, and gore in the eye until they are but motions in life. Remember and recall so you can always know it. Know it well so you do not fear it. Humans will fear what they do not know. _

Subconsciously, her hands were clenching and unclenching faster and faster before she rummaged through her trunk, fishing out a vial of orange liquid. The sight and feeling of an Invigoration Draught brought a sense of comfort to her, she brought it closer to her before she froze. Staring at the vial for several minutes, she placed the vial back to where she found it and settled back down onto her bed. With another blink of the eye, the gore and bodies faded from her sight, leaving only the slight tang of blood in her nose.

_ Not today, another time. You’re at Hogwarts now, it’s a new start. Listen to Nathaniel, stop drinking it. _

Lying down, she stared listlessly at the ceiling of her bed before she heard soft footsteps approaching the door from outside and a very gentle twist of the doorknob. Anya grabbed her wand and shifted to face the door, closing her eyes as much as possible while being able to see. She considered grabbing her pistol, but there was a possibility that whoever was entering the room was not a threat. There was no point risking the secret of her bringing firearms to Hogwarts, she could always make a grab for it if needed.

The door opened to reveal two men with their wands drawn, Anya did not recognise them. They looked around the dorm room for a moment before heading over to Anya’s bed. Through the cracks between her eyelids, Anya saw one of the two men point his wand at her. As she saw the cords of magic gather at the tip of the man’s wand, she acted without hesitation. Twisting her body, she lashed out a leg to kick his arm away, sending the spell firing at the ceiling of the room instead of her. Before the man could let out a sound of surprise, she pointed her wand straight at him and shot a Stunner straight at his chest, she would interrogate him later.

“ _ Protego _ !” she cried out as the other man shot a spell at her, the spell bouncing off her Shield Charm harmlessly. The spell ricocheted off the charm and landed at a mirror, shattering it in a shower of blue sparks. The noise had been enough to awaken the other slumbering girls in the room, who all woke up to the sight of Anya casting a Severing Charm. The man dove out of her line of fire at the last second and the spell connected with a bookshelf, slicing it in half and sending parchment flying everywhere. This prompted the other girls in her dorm to scream in fright and panic, scrambling off their beds and making a beeline for either cover or exit. Anya paid them no heed, shoving her nightstand towards the man. The nightstand absorbed another spell which cracked under the impact, and smashed onto the chest of the person. Anya seized the opportunity, sending a Disarming Spell at the man and snatching the wand mid-air.

“ _ Incarcerous. _ ” Ropes flew out from the tip of her wand, binding the person tightly. Calmly making her way over to the person, Anya halted when she heard a familiar voice.

“Ms Seryy, do refrain yourself from injuring one of the Tournament officials. It would cause a lot more trouble than you have already managed to cause.”

Anya turned to the doorway to find her Head-of-House standing there with a frightened Tracey Davis hiding behind him.

**XXXXX**

Snape had been told by Dumbledore to keep an eye on the girl. He was not surprised, considering the argument that Dumbledore had put up, he even agreed with the old man that the girl was slightly suspicious. After all, she seemed to hold herself exceptionally well during combat, with reflex that Snape could say was on par with Aurors. If there were any more doubts to her suspicious nature, it had disappeared.

Standing at the doorway of the room, the sight that greeted him was an ugly one. Shattered mirror, glass shards on the floor and parchment all over the place. In a span of half a minute, the girl had rose havoc on the room and incapacitated the two Tournament officials sent to collect her for the Third Task, all this during three in the morning where she should have been asleep. Snape was very glad he had the foresight to place privacy wards on the dorm room. Had he not, the whole of Slytherin would have woken up to the sound of the fight and the combined screams of Davis, Parkinson and the older Greengrass. He was also glad that he chose to accompany the two Tournament officials up to her dorm, being able to put a stop to the mess before it descended into further chaos.

“Tournament officials?” a look of confusion on her face.

“Yes, Ms Seryy. Tournament officials,” Snape repeated, gesturing to the two man lying on the floor. “They were sent here to collect you for the Third Task. It was meant to be a surprise for all the champions, them waking up to find themselves already in the Third Task.”

“Oh, I thought they were intruders,” came the girl’s simple response, finally lowering her wand.

“Clearly you did,” said Snape, moving over to revive the stunned official while Anya handed the wand back to the other official. “But apparently, some things can’t be helped.”

The girl looked a little sheepish at the mess she had created, muttering a quick sorry to the disgruntled Tournament officials. One of them sighed and pulled out a vial from his robes, handing them to Anya while the other proceeded to clean up the mess that had been created.

“What’s this?” Anya asked, taking a cautious sniff at the potion.

“Sleeping potion,” the man grunted. “This was the backup plan, because… you know, this happened. No worries, you’ll only be sleeping for another few hours.”

Anya laughed weakly, drinking down the vial in a swig. She laid back down on her bed and closed her eyes, slowing drifting away into a deep slumber.

“Much bigger mess than what everyone would have expected,” the one who had just cleaned up the mess commented.

“Agreed,” the other one nodded before turning to Snape. “Well, Professor Snape, we thank you for your assistance. If you weren’t here, one of us would have been hurt badly.”

“Just hurry up and be done with this,” Snape replied irritably. “I have better things to do.”

“The same here.”

With that, they levitated the sleeping Anya and left the room while one of them stayed behind to inform the other girls not to leak this incident out.

**XXXXX**

Anya woke up with a groan, feeling a little sore. As she took into account her surroundings, she understood why. She had been sleeping on the cold hard floor. With a loud yawn, she stood up and examined the situation. She remembered the previous night, or rather this morning, and knew that this was the Third Task. They had left her here in a standard Tournament tracksuit attire that the other champions had donned in the Second Task, her wand in one of the pockets. Looking around, she found herself surrounded by familiar stone walls. She was in the Hogwarts dungeons.


	14. Third Task

Chapter 14 – Third Task

It was empty, eerie and quiet. Too quiet. Where were the cheering spectators? Even in the Forbidden Forest of the Second Task, Anya could occasionally hear them from their airships up above. Focusing on her right eye, Anya looked around the place until she finally found what she was looking for, the very same combination of Observation Charm and Tracking Charm that had hounded her during the Second Task. She expected the spectators to be lounging in the Great Hall, the entire event being broadcast on a magical panel.

Next, she drew her wand and cast the strongest  _ Homenum Revelio _ she could muster. The spell turned up blank, there was no one in the general vicinity or the walls were enchanted to block the spell. Trying to figure out what the point of the Third Task was, Anya walked around the room she was in. The place had to be the Hogwarts dungeons, the air was much staler than the corridors of the upper floors. However, the place seemed new to her, the Tournament officials probably reconstructed the dungeons of Hogwarts. Or asked it to, Anya remembered a portion of the book  _ Hogwarts: A History _ mentioning that Hogwarts was a pseudo-living castle that could repurpose its structure to fit the needs of its inhabitants.

If anything, she would say she was in a refitted classroom, the place being cleared out except for a table in the centre of the room. There was an amulet placed on the table, this one made of ornate gold with runes carved all over it. Anya picked up the amulet and inspected the runes, synchronisation rune scripts along with an auditory detection and project rune script. In short, it was a magical communication device.

“Comms check. Comms check. One, two, three. Can anyone hear me?” Anya spoke to the amulet, waiting patiently for a reply.

“Hello?” a gruff voice came from the amulet, Anya recognised Krum’s voice. “What is this? What is going on?”

“Viktor Krum?” Anya asked. “Is that you?”

“Yes. And who is this?”

“Anya Seryy.  _ This _ would be a method for communication between the Champion and his assigned Junior Champion. What is going on would depend on your current situation, do you happen to be trapped in a dungeon?”

“Yes.”

“Then you are facing the very same problem that I am in now,” said Anya, moving over to the door of the knob. She looked over it for magic and saw the swirls of magic emanating from it, she followed the trail of the magic which disappeared into the walls, probably connected to something else in the dungeon. Trying the knob, she found the door to be locked magically, at least she now knew what the magic she saw was. Looking at the dark mahogany door, she could spot circular patterns of runes carved on the wood.

“Describe what you are seeing,” Anya ordered. “Because I’m seeing a locked door carved with runes and an empty room.”

“I see the very same thing.  _ Alohomora _ ."

From the walls where the door's magic trailed out of, a simmer of magic she recognised as an Unlocking Charm snaked to the door and broke into shards as it impacted whatever magic it was that kept the door locked. As a result, the door rattled gently before coming back to a still. It appeared as though the spells Krum cast would affect her door and vice versa.

"Unlocking Charm doesn't work, Seryy."

"I noticed."

"How?"

" _ Alohomora _ ," this time it was her who cast the Unlocking Charm, hoping that Krum would see his rattling door despite being unable to see magic. "You notice now?"

"Ah... yes. It seems our doors are connected. We must be tasked with opening each other's doors."

"Well the runes on the doors seem to be giving us a clue," Anya remarked.

"Indeed, and Arithmancy decoding spells seem to reveal the equations and formulas of the magic behind the door, even the Essence Revealing Charm works on the door. I suspect we are being tested on spell identification and spell dismantling."

_ Nothing like good ol' thermite _ .

Anya humoured herself with that thought, but there was no way she was going to conjure up thermite to use in front of a crowd. The poor Purebloods would all freak out.

"Well, let's get to work then," said Anya, moving over to inspect the runes on the door. "My door seems to be locked under a Triple Layer Sealing Spell, runes indicate that the layers are alternated in a positive-negative lattice pattern."

"Triple Layer Sealing huh?" Krum muttered in annoyance. "This is what they use for some of the doors in Durmstrang, it will be difficult to crack."

"Not in a set alternating layer," Anya countered. "Just apply enough pressure on the middle layer with a basic ward breaking spell to shift its nodes and the whole thing will come crashing down. Magical energy of like polarities will repel."

"And why are you so familiar in cracking wards?" Krum asked curiously.

"I read a lot," Anya evaded. "Just start working and tell me what your door holds."

"Nothing much honestly," Krum answered. "From the Arithmetic equations, all I can say is that there's a Locking Charm and an Anti-Alohomora Spell."

"That simple?" Anya was surprised, expecting much more.

"Well, this is for a Junior Champion..." Krum trailed off, leaving Anya to snort in disbelief.

"Alright, then I know what to do. You start working on my door first Krum, the wards will take time to be dismantled."

Anya patiently waited as Krum began to tear down the spell sealing her door. A few minutes passed and her door sprang open, causing her to hear a slight chuckle of satisfaction from Krum.

"Well, Seryy. What are you waiting for?"

"You may want to step away from your door." Anya gave the Bulgarian ten seconds before aiming her wand at the door. " _ Confringo _ !"

The door absorbed her spell readily and Anya was pretty sure Krum's door just got blown open by her Blasting Curse.

"Merlin! Seryy what did you do?"

"A Blasting Curse," Anya replied casually. "No point wasting time trying to crack a spell. We better get going, this Third Task is probably some sort of a puzzle course that the champions have to race against."

"Alright, use a Reductor Curse the next time, you seemed to be very proficient in those."

Laughing quietly at the jibe, Anya proceed down the now open hallway, keeping her wand up at all times. Her eyes were practically lighting up at the number of glowing lines all over the dungeon, various spells holding together this fiesta of a Task. Among all the Tasks so far, this was the most reliant on magic, everything from the doors to the walls seemed to be tied up in a vast array of interconnected charms and enchantments, powered by either runes or spells.

Because of this, it was quite easy to notice the subtle shifts and changes the dungeon was undergoing as she made her way down the stone path. A swarm of charmed candles hanging on a chandelier was easily noticed by a coiling twist of purple lines, causing them to clash with a pre-emptive Freezing Charm before they could get near to Anya. The hallway of armour suits were met with similar pre-emptive spells – this time Reductor Curses – before they could rush the Junior Champion, strings of orange from the ceilings attached on their joints like puppets controlled by the dungeon itself.

Some of the challenges like the animated objects were dealt with alone, but others required cooperation with her partner. A giant stone door that Krum faced required Anya to decipher a riddle to open. A giant golem that attempted to pummel Krum into a glob until Anya was able to rearrange a hall or mirrors for a red beam to shine on a gemstone. The further they went, the surer Anya was that the person who designed this Task in particular was a Muggleborn who had lived off Indiana Jones movies.

"Seryy, how long have we been in this dungeon?" Krum asked impatiently.

"Two hours at most," Anya replied, ignoring a growling stomach as she fired a spell at a purple valve at the ceiling. "There, the water should stop now."

"Thank Merlin, drowning in a dungeon is not at the top of my list," said Krum as the door in front of Anya opened, revealing a corridor and an opening door. Said door revealed a flooded room with a drenched Krum who was firing off another Stunning Spell at a Grindylow.

"Well this is a pleasure," Anya remarked, taking her eyes off Krum to check the corridor. "Good to see you here, Krum."

"I do hope this means that the Task is reaching its end," Krum sighed, stepping into the corridor and casting a Drying Charm on his clothes.

The pair made their way down the stone corridor before entering a large chamber. The chamber was vast and cavernous, rows of towering Romanesque columns held the vaulted ceiling in place, their stone blocks bearing a pristine shade of white. At the end of the chamber stood the light at the end of the tunnel, a sloping corridor that seemed to lead out of the dungeon. Two other corridors stood beside the corridor they just came from, presumably for the other teams.

Making their way into the chamber, Anya immediately noticed circular swirls of dormant magic scattered throughout the ceiling and walls. She recognised them as the same kind of magic behind the Leaky Cauldron that opened the path to Diagon Alley, there was probably a nasty surprise waiting behind the stone blocks. Accompanying that were invisible – not to her though – tripwire spells that smothered the entire chamber, Anya could spend her time deactivating them but it would risk providing more time for the other champions to catch up. After all, feeling quite confident with their rate of progress and the absence of the other teams, Anya reckoned they were at the lead.

"You seem hesitant," Krum observed. "Is there something wrong?"

"This whole room is a big trap," Anya stated.

"Of course," Krum softly snorted. "The exit lays right in front of us with no obstacles in between? Even a child would notice that something is off."

Suddenly, a cry of joy from their backs made the pair spin around, pointing their wands at the source of the disturbance.

"We made it! Exit's right there!" Poitiers jabbered excitedly to his Hogwarts partners, Harry and Cedric, before screeching into a halt. " _ Merde _ ."

Cedric was the first among the three to react, aiming his wand at Anya whom he perceived to be the bigger threat. Harry and Poitiers followed suit, aiming at Krum instead. There was a minute of silence as each side stared at the other, waiting for someone to make the first move. Eventually, it was the Frenchman who broke the awkward silence.

"I believe this is what's called an impasse," said Poitiers lightly. "Is duelling allowed in this Task?"

"Nobody said anything," Krum shrugged. "It's a free for all. And shouldn't Potter and Diggory be competing against each other?"

"Well," said Cedric hesitantly. "Let's say we agreed on a Hogwarts victory here."

" _ Expelliarmus _ !"

" _ Protego _ ."

Both green-eyed champions fired their spells at the same time, Harry's Disarming Charm splashed harmlessly against Anya's Shield Charm, signalling the start of an ensuing chaos. Both teams ran for the exit, firing off spells as they ran. Cedric, having experience with Anya and her insanely accurate aim, held a Shield Charm for his team as they rushed for the exit, allowing the other two to fire Stunner after Stunner.

It did not take long before someone activated the tripwire spells scattered throughout the chamber. There was a deep rumbling sound and the ceilings and walls began to move, the stone bricks shuffling and rearranging to form circular holes. A wave of clicking sound filled the champions' ears as several acromantulas crawled out from the holes, making their way to the champions as the holes behind the arachnids sealed back shut.

Seeing the giant spiders make their way towards them, the champions all made a mad dash for the exit, occasionally firing spells at either the acromantulas or their competitors. As the teams neared the exit, Anya felt a sharp jerk across her gut. Next thing she knew, she was hurled back into the chamber and the acromantulas, landing on her back.

She reacted on reflex when the red lines flickered in her vision, eyes darting around her periphery before rolling aside to dodge the incoming pincers of a pouncing acromantula. With a wide swipe of her arm, a Severing Charm decapitated the arachnid. Climbing onto her feet, she observed her surroundings.

Around her were the traces of a Summoning Charm, faint broken strands of yellow scattered in the air. Krum laid a few feet away, moving up from his prone position as well. It seemed that he was also pulled by the Summoning Charm. Five acromantulas were making their way closer, their pincers clicking rapidly. To the exit, the other champions were almost at the exit, Cedric waving on his teammates to move faster.

However, all those were of little concern compared to what her right eye saw. Fluctuating wildly were the various lines of magic that covered the entire dungeon. Iridescent cords curled and thrashed violently before starting to stretch and pull, shaking dangerously in protest to the strain it was under. The tension grew higher and higher until, finally, it snapped.

The explosions went off all over the chamber like a lit ammunition dump, the tremors throwing Anya off her feet. Blocks of stone raptured into fragments, showering the chamber with rubble. Slowly, parts of the chamber began to collapse, the columns that held the ceiling crumbling down into piles and large chunks began to block the place. At least Fleur and Dulovo would never reach this mess as a segment of the ceiling blocked out what would have been their corridor. Once again, she was forced to roll went a large piece of falling rubble threatened to kill her. When she got back onto her feet, she found an incapacitated Krum lying on the floor, having been hit on the head with a loose fragment of stone. Trying to stabilise herself with the still shaking chamber, she made her way to the Durmstrang Champion and checked his vitals. There was a strong pulse, he was in no immediate danger.

Rather, the real danger came in the form of the now torn down walls. A mass of acromantulas now poured from the holes, cracks and raptures all over the walls and ceiling. Five she could easily deal with, fifty, sixty, no- seventy with a deadweight to carry out was starting to seem impossible.

" _ Rennervate _ ," Anya muttered, watching the spell fail on Krum. The hit on his head must have been hard enough for severe concussion. Anya glanced down at the unconscious body and considered abandoning him, but a voice pull her from her thoughts.

"Come on Seryy, move! I'll get Krum," yelled Harry as he shot a Reductor Curse at the acromantula closest to Anya. Ignoring the falling rubble, the Gryffindor rushed over and began lifting Krum up as Anya watched on with shock.

"Potter, are you fucking retarded?" exclaimed Anya, voice thick with disbelief. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I can't just leave the two of you behind," said Harry feverishly, trying to place the Bulgarian on his shoulders. "You'll die here."

"And so will you," spat Anya, whirling around to send a Blasting Curse into the mass of black. The curse blew open an acromantula, sending its nearby compatriots scattering around. Anya turned back to see her brother struggle with carrying Krum, taking slow steps towards the exit where Cedric and Poitiers were yelling at them to move. With a suffering sigh she pulled the unconscious body off Harry's back, she heaved the body over her and carried Krum with ease in a fireman's lift.

Anya immediately launched herself into a sprint, keeping a hold of Krum with one hand while holding her wand in the other, occasionally letting loose a curse at the horde of arachnids. Harry stuck close behind her, firing Stunners as he forced himself to keep up with her. All around them, pieces of the chamber were still falling, mounds of stone bricks creating a difficult path to traverse. Dread gnawed on her bones when the still collapsing magical system caused another burst of explosions, this time bringing down the exit. Cedric and Poitiers managed to dive out of the way to safety, but now she had no way out.

Cursing softly under her breath, she placed Krum down on the floor and considered her options. The acromantulas were encircling them by this point, the prospect of fresh meat sending them into a frenzy as the clicking of their pincers grew louder. Harry backed into her, face pale and shaking slightly.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. What do we do?" Harry aimed his wand at the approaching acromantulas, shifting his aim jerkily every so often to the nearest acromantula. The arachnids – having the intelligence to understand its threat – reacted to his wand, jumping back whenever the wand was pointed at them.

"For starters, calm down," Anya responded, staring at the acromantulas as though searching for an opening. "You're a Gryffindor, be brave."

"Heh," Harry snorted. "What about you, Slytherin?"

"Being cunning here," said Anya softly, not giving her full attention to the conversation. "And that requires me to calm down."

"So you have a  _ cunning _ plan?" Harry asked, pointing his wand at other creeping acromantula, which jumped back angrily, its pincers clicking even more loudly.

"Yes. We simply wait and stay alive."

"What!?"

"Think about it Potter," Anya reasoned calmly. "This is a controlled tournament, not a real scenario. Even with this major screw up, the officials are probably hauling their arses to get this fixed as we speak. So we stay alive, and let them do the work. It's bad publicity if three champions were to die in a Triwizard Tournament that has just been reinstated."

"You're gambling here, Seryy."

Another acromantula tried to make its way forward, but dropped dead when Anya sent a Severing Charm it, cleaving its head open. The clicking grew louder, the arachnids were growing restless.

"And those are some good odds."

"Good Godric," Harry sighed through his ragged breathing. "Are you damn sure on this?"

Anya turned and faced him, staring straight at his eyes. Her voice was soft, but there was a steely edge to it. Even amidst the loud clicking of acromantula pincers, her soft voice easily found its way into Harry's ears.

"Do you trust me? Absolutely and unconditionally?"

Hesitating for a few seconds, Harry nodded slowly and Anya continued to stare at him, scrutinising for something. To his surprise, she cracked a smile. It wasn't her usual small, amused smile which she wore. It was a wide smile, genuine and radiant, her eyes crinkling as her lips tugged upwards. The smile went as fast as it came and her face went back to its calm and grim countenance.

"Then I'm glad we have mutual understanding," Anya threw a standard set of concealment spells over Krum's unconscious body. She turned around and levelled her wand, back facing Harry.

"Face front. Wands up. Stay sharp. Back to back." Anya ordered crisply. "Name me your best combat spells."

Scrambling to his position, Harry faced the encircling acromantulas. The pair now stood back to back, preparing themselves for the inevitable.

"My best would be the Disarming Spell."

"Anything else?" Anya asked, suppressing a snort of disbelief.

"Stupefy, Petrificus Totalus, Reducto..." Harry began listing off spells.

"Reductor Curse or a Blasting Curse if you can," Anya interrupted the ramble. "Keep those as your primary arsenal. Take out the biggest threats you see, I'll focus on crowd control."

"Alright, got it," Harry nodded feverishly. He kept looking around at the swarm of arachnids surrounding them, with more crawling out from the broken walls. Left. Right. Front. Back. There was no way he could cover all directions. He stole a glance back the raven-haired girl. She kept her attention forward, poised for action.

"Seryy, they're all around us," sweat trickled uncomfortably down his forehead. "How am I supposed to handle all this?"

"That's the whole point of being back to back," Anya replied logically. "We cover both sides. When the crowd gets too rowdy on your end and the big threats get too dangerous on my end, we simply switch places."

"What if one of us screws up?"

"That's not going to happen."

"How do you know?" Harry snapped. The clicking sound grew even louder, the acromantulas were going to pounce any moment.

"Absolutely and unconditionally," Anya replied with an unnatural calm. "You see? I'm not the one darting back every few seconds because I know you've got my back. Now, just do the same. We both do our parts and we'll make it out clean."

Harry looked back at Seryy incredulously but found her staying true to her words, she was focused on the eight-legged crowd that was in front of her, leaving her back completely open for him to defend. Taking a deep breath, Harry faced front and steeled himself for what could be a last stand.

The clicking of pincers reached a crescendo and in the moment Anya saw the legs of the acromantulas around her tensing for a leap, she aimed her wand above her.

A blinding white flare erupted from the tip of the wand, hovering a few feet above the two siblings. The sudden burst of illumination interrupted the acromantulas from their pounce, forcing them to scatter. Slashing back downwards, Anya's wand transfigured the surrounding rubbles into feral dogs and a jab of Harry's wand sent a Reductor Curse into the head of the biggest, meanest arachnid he could spot. Around the edges of Anya's vision, familiar red lines made themselves known. They always did this during combat, reminding her that she was in danger, waiting to tighten straight in the moment when her life was in direct threat.

All hell broke loose.

**XXXXX**

There had been 'ohhh's and 'ahhh's, gasps and cheers. But at the moment, a deathly silence smothered the Great Hall in a mood that was oppressively grim, punctuated by hushed nervous whispers and an equally nervous commentary. The house banners that adorned the walls were now replaced with a monolithic banner charmed to display the champions' progress based on what the Observation and Tracking Charms were recording. Long tables and benches used for mealtimes were replaced by rows and rows of chairs. The Great Hall had been converted to a theatre.

Cedric and Poitiers had made it to the exit and left the dungeons. Fleur and Dulovo were cut off from the chamber but had been retrieved by the tournament officials. All that was left to see on the banner were two Hogwarts fourth-years standing back to back, an unconscious Krum – now concealed – in between them and acromantulas surrounding them.

"Well, it looks like Potter and Seryy are preparing themselves for a desperate stand. Officials are still trying to resolve the issue, but there- uh..." Bagman licked his lips nervously. "There seems to be a bit of a... technical issue. N-no worries there, ladies and gentlemen, I'm pretty sure it's all going to be dandy soon."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were whispering heatedly to each other, anxiously waiting for Moody and any of the tournament officials to bring them an update on the situation. The students were all nearing panic, biting their nails and hugging their friends for comfort. Neville had fainted long ago from the sight of all the spiders and a pale-faced Ron looked quite close in following his footsteps.

When Anya shot the flare and the volley of spells began flying loose, there was a collective intake of breaths and several screams throughout the Great Hall. The transfigured dogs formed a protective circle around the duo and leapt at the acromantulas, snapping at the legs and eyes. In addition to a blinding flare that impeded the arachnids' advance, Anya flicked her wand in multiple directions, sending jolting streams of red sparks all over the horde, resulting in rippling flicker of tiny explosions. The spell went off like an ignited crate of firecrackers, flickering bursts of flame and loud rattling showered the acromantulas. It did little harm, but it sent the large crowd scattering away from the pair. However, the larger acromantulas were unfazed by the dogs, lights and firecrackers, the effort from Anya only slowing them down.

Harry focused on targeting the larger acromantulas on his side, well-aimed Reductor Curses making short work of them while the mass of smaller ones scuttled forth. When the swarm on Harry's side and the large acromantulas on Anya's side got too close, the crowd in the Great Hall could see Anya's mouth moving in what lip readers could discern as 'Switch!’

Grabbing the back of Harry's tracksuit, Anya pulled him towards her position while she spun and lunged over to his position. The two barely reached their place before two spells fired off in synchrony, a Blasting Curse tearing up two large acromantulas on one end that were too close for comfort and a firecracker spell sending back droves of smaller acromantulas on the other end.

"Good Godric! Will you look at that," Bagman croaked in shock. "The two are holding their ground."

The staff and students stared in awe as the two worked in harmony, rotating positions every so often. At first, Anya had to be the one to call out when to switch, tugging Harry along. But a few rotations in and neither words nor actions were needed, the two seemed to work in the same mind. One kept the crowd of acromantulas back while the other picked out the big ones that could not be held back.

"Albus, I've got bad news," Moody grunted as he entered the Great Hall from a side entrance, flanked by two tournament officials. "The magic system supporting the Third Task is completely fried. Tournament officials placed too many damn spells there, it couldn't handle the stress. The officials can't get through, neither can I."

"I feared the worse," Dumbledore sighed before rising from his seat. "I'll have to try to fix it myself."

"I don't enjoy being the one who has to say the ugly truth, Albus. But-"

Moody's next words were cut off momentarily when he saw the banner. Seeing Harry Potter amidst the swarm of acromantulas was not what he intended. The boy should have made it out safely with Diggory and Poitiers when he activated that trap. Why in Merlin's name was he still in the chamber?

"But you wouldn't be able to solve this alone," Moody managed to change his intended words without missing a beat. "Filius! Minerva! You'll need to come as well. The sooner we fix this, the better."

The two Head-of-Houses stood up and followed the two aged wizards out of the Great Hall, rushing for the dungeons. Moody moved as fast as his wooden leg could allow him, hoping that he would reach the chamber in time. He intended for the Bulgarian and the Slytherin girl to die, thus reducing the competition for Harry Potter to win the Tournament. After all, the Second Task showed the two of them as the most capable champions and the girl was too sharp and dangerous for her own good. How Harry Potter managed to stumble his way back into the chamber when he was already at the exit was equally confusing and infuriating.

He needed to hurry, before the second phase of his trap sprang.

**XXXXX**

Fifteen minutes passed, they were holding their ground and they were doing it well, the floor was soaked in acromantula blood at this point and the transfigured dogs shattered. No words were needed, the two siblings simply knew when to rotate and trusted the other to move as well. Turn, move, and cast.

" _ Reducto _ !"

" _ Bauzuk _ !"

Another fat acromantula vaporised and a widespread ripple of explosions scattered the swarm back. Anya was drenched in sweat, more so from magical strain and physical. The sounds of Harry's ragged breathing told her that he was just as tired. The red lines in her vision twisted a little more tightly, as it had been doing throughout the entire onslaught. If no help came soon, they would soon be in dangerous waters.

Even more dread pooled in her stomach when the chamber was hit with another wave of tremors. So far, tremors only meant that things were about to dive further down the rabbit hole. Anya drew in a sharp breath as the snapped and broken lines that surrounded the chamber whirled into a frenzy, compressed itself and exploded. The ensuing shockwave was more magical than physical as Anya felt her breath taken away. Black lines flew all over her vision, clouding the chamber like a thick fog.

" _ Reducto _ !"

No spell came from Harry's wand and he gaped at his failed wand in shock.

"Fuck." That was the sole word Anya uttered before she scrambled onto the floor, biting viciously on her hand. Blood trickled from her bite and using her other hand, she smeared blood on her fingers. With desperate haste, she began drawing out runes on the floor. "Potter! Give me fifteen seconds! Don't die! Don't let me die!"

Black lines as dark as an ink-filled void. Null magic. A rare occurrence that – as its name implies – nullifies all nearby magic, essentially a magical EMP. The dread in Anya's stomach tripled when she realised the implication of this. Null magic took a lot of specific circumstances to manifest, the odds of it happening in a collapse of a magical system was one in a thousand. There was no way it was coincidence, someone engineered this, someone wanted her dead.

Harry stumbled about helplessly before composing himself and hissing loudly at the acromantulas, the arachnids back off in surprise at the sound of their mortal foes. Anya busied herself with the blood runes, four sigils at each corner of a three metre circle with a smaller circle in the centre. The acromantulas paused momentarily at the resurgent tremor and Harry’s Parseltongue, pincers clicking in confusion before slowly approaching their prey once more. With the finishing touches to the runic circle complete, Anya rubbed her bitten hand on the small circle at the centre, aggravating the wound to release more blood onto it. Wizarding blood was innately magical, providing a fuel source for the runic circle. Muttering a runic activation incantation and forcing in a good measure of willpower, bronze lines sprung up in a hemisphere, pushing the black away.

Harry felt his wand warming up, coming back to life. He had to admit, Anya truly was a prodigy in Runes. It was about time too, the acromantulas were edging closer.

"Nice one, Seryy."

"Not yet, needs more blood.  _ Diffindo _ ."

Had it not been for some of the still present null magic, she would have severed her arm completely. Her arm tore open, allowing for blood to gush into the circle, which the circle absorbed ravenously. Anya wheezed out in pain and saw the bronze lines glow and widen, pushing the black even further away until there was no null magic around them.

"POTTER! SPELLS!"

There was no further instructions needed as Harry sent a Blasting Curse at the closest acromantula, blowing it open in a spew of mushy parts. Another Blasting Curse from Anya took out another large acromantula, but the arachnids have gotten too close.

From the corner of her eye, Anya saw an acromantula leap from Harry's side as he was firing a Reductor Curse at another acromantula. High on adrenaline and clouded by pain, she reacted on instinct and lunged to shove Harry aside. The moment her feet left the ground, the red lines in her vision drew taut.

She knew.

There was no turning back.

No dodging.

No coming out unharmed.

Her shoulder slammed Harry out of the way as pincers sank into her back. She shrieked in pain as the venom burned through her body, the searing sensation piercing into her bones. The arachnid landed onto her and drove its pincers deeper, Anya swung her wand to the acromantula's sternum and jabbed it hard enough to break its skin.

" _ CONFRINGO _ !" screamed Anya, the point blank Blasting Curse showered the place with the acromantula's remains. Summoning the pincers out of her back, Anya rolled over and writhed in agonising pain.

"Seryy!" Harry cried out as he climbed back to his feet and rushed over to Anya, firing a Reductor Curse at a pouncing acromantula. He made his way over to Anya and pulled her off the floor. He tried to find a way out, but the acromantulas were all over them at this point.

"Potter, Impervius Charm. All of us, don't forget Krum," Anya forced the words out with gritted teeth, struggling to claw her way up with as the venom burdened her movement. "Followed by a Shield Charm, aim on the floor."

Harry rushed to obey without hesitation. Casting the spells as the acromantulas closed in what little gap there was.

" _ Impervius. Impervius. Impervius. Protego _ !"

No sooner had the words leave Harry's mouth than Anya bellowed at the top of her lungs.

" _ FULGUR MAXIMA _ !"

Arcs of bright blue lightning lanced from her wandtip. The paralytic effects from the venom prevented her from aiming, but the blood from both her runic circle and the slain acromantulas provided all the conductors she needed to kill the acromantulas without aiming. Bolts of lightning snaked through the pools viscous liquid on the floor, electrocuting the surrounding acromantulas.

The arachnids went into a crazed spasm before collapsing on the floor, either dead or paralysed. Smoke filled the air and a nauseating stench filled their nose. By then, the overexertion, blood loss and acromantula venom had taken a toll on Anya's body. Darkness took over and she slid back onto the floor, passing out and twitching from the effects of the venom.

"Oh Merlin, Seryy! Seryy!" yelled Harry, shaking her unconscious figure. He turned around to see more acromantulas scuttling in from the holes in the walls. "Bloody hell..."

Thankfully, rescue came in the form of Dumbledore, Moody, Flitwick and McGonagall. Stones at covered the exit were shifted aside magically, the raw power of the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot brought to bear, aided by Moody and Professor McGonagall. Professor Flitwick busied himself in stabilising the haywire magic in the area, swishing his wand while muttering incantations. Dumbledore rushed over to the champions, with Tournament officials and mediwizards in tow.

A wide sweep of Dumbledore's wand and the acromantulas were all set ablaze. Professor McGonagall and Moody rushed to seal off the holes in the walls and ceilings leaving the chamber safe for the mediwizards to attend to the champions. Anya was quickly strapped onto a levitating stretcher and a mediwizard immediately shoved a temporary antidote and a Blood-Replenishing Potion down her throat.

The concealment spells on Krum were removed and he too was strapped onto a stretcher. Harry tried to resist, to busy worrying for Anya's health as she had shoved him away only to be attacked by an acromantula. However, the mediwizards were adamant in having him lie down, and thus Harry was forced onto a stretcher as well. The exhaustion finally found its way into Harry's senses and he simply allowed the darkness of sleep to take over him.

**XXXXX**

"Look! He's waking up!"

"Quiet down, Ronald. Madam Pomfrey will kick us out if you're too loud."

With a groan, Harry finally woke up, feeling his entire body aching. His throat was dry and the pangs of hunger hit him immediately. After all, he missed breakfast during the Third Task because he woke up to find himself in the dungeons. He was in the Hospital Wing, lying on a bed. In front him were Ron and Hermione, sitting on wooden chairs and looking at him with expressions of concern.

"How long was I out?" Harry asked.

"Not that long mate, it has only been a few hours," Ron answered while Hermione poured him a glass of water which he gratefully accepted. "Dinner just ended half an hour ago. The lot of you gave Madam Pomfrey a big shock."

"I can imagine that," Harry snorted as he sipped the glass of water. "What happened after the Task?"

"Big fiasco, everyone panicked, the teachers panicked, Bagman panicked," said Ron. "Imagine the shock when the screen went blank after the tremor at the chamber. And when it came back, it was you with an unconscious Krum and Seryy, surrounded by smoking dead spiders."

"We were so worried," said Hermione, bringing Harry into a bone-crushing hug before hitting him hard on the shoulder repeatedly, forcing Harry to bring his pillow up to shield himself from her fists. "What on earth were you thinking? You were at the exit and the place was going to collapse. What did you do? You ran  _ back _ to the swarm of acromantulas? Are you mad? You could have died."

"He didn't though," Ron grinned happily. "Got off with forty-eight points."

"Forty-eight points!?" Harry spluttered.

"That's right," Ron said brightly. "For showing bravery and moral fibre by going back for your fellow champions when they were in dire straits. Also that bit with the whole taking down a horde of acromantula by yourself probably helped."

"Oh yeah! How did you manage to do that?" Hermione asked.

"What?" Harry was pretty sure he was not on the same page as his friends.

"Didn't you remember?" Ron pressed. "The last we saw in the Great Hall, you and Seryy were surrounded by acromantulas. The charm that showed you guys broke for a while, when it came back it showed you and an unconscious Seryy and all the acromantulas were dead. You took them all down yourself, right?

"What!?" Harry repeated, the gears in his head turning. "That wasn't me! That was Seryy, she was the one who did it before passing out."

"Oh well..." Ron grinned. "Too late for that mate, just accept the damn points and stop being a Hufflepuff."

"I can't just take credit for her work," Harry protested. "How is she and Krum? Are they alright?"

"Krum's alright," Hermione answered, ignoring Ron's indignant huff at the mention of the Bulgarian. "Just a bad concussion, nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix. Seryy had it much worse, acromantula venom is a nasty thing."

Harry sank back into his pillow, wallowing in guilt. She took a blow for him and he took her points, hardly fair. Soon enough, Madam Pomfrey came to chase Ron and Hermione out, stating that he needed rest.

"Madam Pomfrey, is it alright if I checked on Seryy?"

"Now, Mr Potter, you really need to rest. Furthermore, I don't think you should be disturbing Ms Seryy."

"I'm alright, I wasn't the one who got injured," Harry protested. "And Seryy really saved me back there, I should at least see if she's alright in return."

"Well..." Madam Pomfrey grew flustered at the reasoning, professionalism fighting with morality. "I still think you shouldn't see her."

"Come on, Madam Pomfrey. I owe her this," pleaded Harry.

Madam Pomfrey sighed, silently cursing the soft spot she had nursed for this Gryffindor.

"Fine... make it quick, and I want to see you back in bed when I get back," Madam Pomfrey relented. "And not a word about her scars to other people, I'm sure she hid them to prevent an embarrassment."

"Huh, scars?"

"Yes, I had to flush her body from all magical interference to rid her of the acromantula venom. It removed the glamour charms that she apparently had, revealing scars all over her body. Now go, and remember, be back in bed don't go spouting out other people's secrets."

Nodding in confusion, Harry made his way down to Anya's bed, pulling the curtains open. His jaw dropped, disbelief in his eyes. All the past suspicions that he had once harboured came back in full force.

“Anne!?”

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This is also posted under FFN under the same story and author name. Much more progress in FFN site for those of you who want to binge.


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